


Too Soon

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Earthquakes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, France - Freeform, Harry's great with kids, Jealous Louis, Louis likes to tweet, Louis tags along with Harry, Love in Paris, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor fallout, Nervous Louis, Paris Fashion Week, Photographer Harry, Possessive Louis, Romance, Sex, Singer Louis, Smut, Sweet Harry, Vulnerable Louis, Whirlwind Romance, and make up, moody louis, use of French
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't as though Louis Tomlinson hadn't been in the tabloids about his diva-like behaviour. Tantrums, mood-swings and temper were all mentioned in those articles. But what it all boiled down to was brattishness. Louis Tomlinson was a brat and now Harry had to photograph him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

It wasn't as though Louis Tomlinson hadn't been in the tabloids about his diva-like behaviour. Tantrums, mood-swings and temper were all mentioned in those articles. But what it all boiled down to was brattishness. Louis Tomlinson was a brat and now Harry had to photograph him.

 

Harry Styles liked to think himself a patient man. He had after all, photographed some of the most difficult artists in his time. He was twenty-four, living the dream with a high-flying career but the kind of anonymity most people would relish with his lifestyle. He figured the only other people earning his kind of money would be models or actors, all who had demands on them that Harry couldn't even imagine.

 

He was a free bird somewhat. Talented and sought-after, but able to fly as he pleased. He often flitted from place to place, project to project. He wasn't even sure where home was anymore. He had a place in London-barely slept in, half unpacked and he felt strange it its surroundings. He also had a place in LA since a lot of his work was with Hollywood actors. That apartment was probably more at ease, a little better habituated.

 

But he couldn't deny he missed England. That was home, despite his physical sleeping place not feeling like much as yet. And he was heading there right now.

 

Louis Tomlinson was, after all, the best British Export in the last ten years. Or so Hello magazine would have him believe as he flicked through the pages idly on the plane, pausing on an interview with his next project.

 

It was part of his job really, to do his homework and get to know his subject. He wasn't much use in a shoot if he couldn't get to the bare bones of the person, didn't know them just the smallest amount. He made a point of that, of sitting and having coffee, of talking for a bit, just casual and warm.

 

It made for much better photographs.

 

And somehow, his photographs were revered far and wide. Celebrities were falling over themselves to be shot by him. Maybe it was more to do with his ability to make them look completely different, shoot them in a way they never imagined possible. But Harry was proud of what he'd achieved. He felt confident that his artistic vision was good enough for longevity in his line of work. He'd be taking pictures for some time yet, is what he was told by other experts in the biz.

 

That didn't stop his little sigh out, or the way he cast his smoky green eyes towards the window of the plane, searching for something. He tucked his too-long dark hair back and pressed the side of his face towards the seat, curling over. His long, muscular body was awkward in these plane seats, built for dwarves he was sure. Still, he could always take first class and have leg-room but he didn't want to become a prick who only flew first class.

 

He didn't want to become like Louis Tomlinson.

 

He was lonely. He could admit that much. Another flight, another project, another few days of work that gave him no stability as to where he'd be or who he'd meet. And even if he did meet someone, he'd be off again just as fast. He'd been looking into options regarding staying out for a while, growing roots and having something tangible to hold onto. Maybe even some _one_ to hold onto. That was the main objective, really.

 

His second sigh was even more desolate than the first.

 

Harry needed to be loved. Needed to feel loved, needed to love someone in return. And he hadn't for a while. A long while if he was really honest. And he couldn't deny the few short flings he had enjoyed weren't well, _enjoyable_ , but...well, he wanted more, really. Deserved it, even. He wanted dependable arms around him and kisses in his hair.

 

He dipped his gaze from the window where he stared wistfully, his curly lashes blinking over his eyes as if to guard his feelings. His eyes fell back onto the glossy page of the magazine, still curled in his hand. A bright-coloured shot of Louis grinned back at him, all twinky and boyish. It was an old picture, of when Louis used to be a band member of One Direction with three other guys.

 

Harry turned the page to see the other half of the banner picture above the article. Louis now. He was in a black sleeveless top, black skinnies. His hair was bushy, kind of a wreck to be honest. His eyes were narrowed with long lashes framing them, his lips soft-looking where his thumbs pressed into them thoughtfully.

 

Harry knew exactly how he wanted to shoot him but he wasn't sure if Louis would agree. He began to read the words printed below, folding out the magazine as if this generically boring interview would give him the glimpse of Louis that he needed to complete his shoot.

 

He somehow doubted it, but he read anyway.

 

**_Now 26, Louis Tomlinson has enjoyed success as both part of boy band One Direction and a solo artist in the two years following the band's demise. We caught up with him at the Soho, London, to ask the important questions:_ **

****

**_Louis, you came out two years ago to your fans after One Direction broke up but we've yet to see you dating?_ **

_[Louis smirks]Yeah...well, I guess I can't force that, can I? Takes a strong man to date a guy like me..._

**_Guys must be falling over themselves to date you though..._ **

_You'd be surprised._

**_We would!_ **

_I think my temper scares them off. There's a lot written in the press about me, all bullshit. But I guess that's what guys think they're getting..._

**_So can you see yourself settling down?_ **

_Yeah, of course. When it happens._

_[Louis' manager calls over for us to change our questions away from his private life]_

**_And how is the new album coming?_ **

_Slowly...[He smiles wryly] Maybe I'm lacking the inspiration without a boyfriend?_

**_We're sure you can pull out another amazing album, since your last two went platinum and you've toured the world twice over._ **

_Third record is always the hardest. It's going to be a bit of a wait for the fans between albums but I want to get this one right._

**_You've spent a long time touring, too, how do you cope with being away from your family?_ **

_[Louis shrugs]I take them with me sometimes. I go home when I can. I'm actually back in England for a while after this tour ends to spend some proper time writing._

**_Louis shakes our hand as we are ushered away by his manager, the next journo lined up to ask no doubt the same questions. He makes a point of leading us toward the door with a gentlemanly hand to our back and smiles politely-if coolly as we turn toward the corridor that leads us out of the building. Something about his demeanour makes us wonder if the reports of his diva-like tantrums aren't 'bullshit' as Louis claims. Either way, we're sure his next album will be just as popular as his last two and we're itching to get tickets to the launch party._ **

****

Harry rolls his wide green eyes and twists in his seat again, laying straight in his reclined chair. That interview tells him as much as a blank piece of paper. He may as well eat the page and try to digest Louis that way instead of wasting his time reading such vapid crap.

 

Still, he had a job to do and he was already planning it as the seatbelt sign went on, signalling their landing.

 

//

 

It was midnight when he landed and he crashed at his flat knowing he had an early start tomorrow with the Tomlinson shoot and he didn't have time to call anybody, really, only his favourite stylist, Zayn Malik who he took on every shoot his good friend was available to do. They made a good team, got results. Harry wondered if his popularity wouldn't be quite as much without Zayn's edgy and artistic talent but he reminded himself it was _his_ vision, he just couldn't always make it real.

 

Zayn was lugging his several art boxes from the back of his BMW into the venue as Harry slipped out of his Audi, tall and handsome in black. He pushed back his fringe, tugging a scarf from his jeans pocket to quickly wrap around his head, taming back his hair enough to let him concentrate on work.

 

He went into his boot to fetch his photography bag; slinging it over his shoulder and grinning widely as he saw Zayn heading back out to his car and Harry stood there, wide arms and grin waiting for Zayn to walk into him.

 

Zayn hugged him keenly.

 

"Hey, man! You look great!" His friend accused warmly, pulling back.

 

Harry cupped his cheek, pursed his lips.

 

"Nothing on you, though," Harry complimented.

 

Zayn rolled his eyes, his beautiful black curly lashes jumping with the movement. He had chocolate eyes and a shock of black hair that he kept shaved on the sides and peaked in the middle. His earring, nose-stud and tongue stud didn't lessen his dangerously sharp jaw and cheekbones any. He looked like an Asian punk.

 

If Harry didn't know Zayn better, he might even think he was wearing eyeliner but Harry knew that was just Zayn's dark good-looks. They sometimes shared a hotel room when they worked together; sometimes snuggled up in the same bed for comfort, for companionship even. But for all those times Harry curled the smaller guy into his arms, he'd never felt a flicker of attraction.

 

He guessed the same went for Zayn or the other guy might have tried to kiss him by now.

 

"He's not here yet," Zayn shared lightly.

 

Harry checked his watch. It was still early.

 

"He has twenty minutes," he allowed with a smile.

 

Zayn smirked.

 

"Going easy in case he rips us?"

 

Harry bit his lip at Zayn's assumption.

 

"You want to risk the wrath?" Harry asked back and Zayn chuckled.

 

"Nope," he admitted.

 

Harry grabbed his last two cases and headed inside.

 

//

 

Louis was sat in the area Harry had set up for the shoot. He'd been brought in while Harry was discussing, quite intensely, his ideas with Zayn. He'd been practically ignorant to the fact Louis had been brought in and seated on the lone stool in the centre of his blank canvas.

 

It was Louis' manager, Liam, that caught his elbow and advised him,

 

"Mr. Tomlinson is waiting," in a low voice.

 

Harry turned, his brows arching just a little. _He can keep waiting_ , he thought to himself, _until I'm ready_.

 

Still, this was a big pay cheque. He should really try to play nice. He flicked Zayn a look. Zayn nodded in silent agreement to what they'd discussed.

 

Harry headed over to his subject and slipped his hands into his jeans pockets. Louis was smaller in real life than on the magazine page. His eyes were big and blue and...quite intense actually, when he stared at him. His face wasn't gaunt exactly but his cheeks had shadows, his hair was a little too long and his stubble was careless. He wasn't trying to look sexy with a little scratch, he just couldn't be bothered to shave.

 

Harry noted the lack of warmth in his face as he approached.

 

"Hi, I'm Harry," he stretched forth his hand.

 

Louis looked at it and then at him.

 

Harry blinked, not missing a beat. He'd had worse than a cool look and lack of interest in shaking hands.

 

"Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?" Harry asked.

 

And yes, it was weird not having a lackey to get them drinks but this was how Harry worked. He made sure of it. No assistants.

 

Louis licked his lips.

 

"Can't we just get it over with?" he asked, his voice a little husky.

 

Harry recognised the timbre from his songs, the ones that often popped up on the radio, even when he was in America or India or Australia on a shoot. He wondered briefly if Louis smoked to keep the husk in it.

 

"I'd like to get to know you a bit before we shoot," Harry explained gently.

 

He'd never known anyone not to succumb to his charm before. Even the most awkward of models and grumpy of artists had come around to his ideas eventually. Maybe Louis was a first here.

 

Louis sighed, agitated. His hands rubbed together.

 

"I don't have time."

 

Harry blinked.

 

"You wanted to do something different, didn't you? For your fans to see you in a completely different way?" Harry challenged. "I booked you for three hours...did you think it would be quicker than that?"

 

Louis' gaze snapped up, surprised by Harry's challenge.

 

"I wasn't told," is all he said, swallowing tightly, his teeth clenching.

 

Harry frowned.

 

"What _were_ you told?" He wondered, a little off-balance by this honesty.

 

"An hour, tops," he lifted his brows. "My best friend is in London and wants to see me," he added.

 

Harry lifted a brow, shooting a look to Liam. Liam bit his lip and looked away, pretending to be checking the door for late entries. They were the only four in the room.

 

"You best call him," Harry suggested. "He'll have to come to the shoot."

 

Louis' eyes darkened and his brows furrowed.

 

"You can't get done in an hour?"

 

"Not if you want the best," Harry ricocheted right back.

 

Louis' gaze slid down him then, cool and indifferent. It was if he was assessing Harry's claim. He might have agreed because his lips turned down just a notch at the corners and his brows lifted in a 'yeah, okay' way that made Harry wonder if he was assessing his photography skills or something else entirely.

 

He didn't like being sized up by this Tomlinson brat either way. He was beginning to think the reports of him being difficult were true.

 

Louis pulled his phone out of his pocket with a sigh and typed into it, finally lifting his gaze back to Harry's as Harry stood, arms folded across his chest, somewhat defensively. It made his arm muscled bulge but Harry didn't play on that fact.

 

Louis lifted his brows expectantly.

 

"Tea or coffee?" Harry repeated.

 

"Tea," Louis voted, slipping off his stool to follow Harry into the staff room at the venue, a beaten up sofa sitting in the corner where Louis lowered himself while Harry did the honours.

 

"What about the other guy?" Liam asked of Zayn.

 

"His name is Zayn," Harry supplied. "He knows how I work, he's prepared, don't worry..."

 

Louis nodded, flicking his gaze around the room. It fell on Harry, backlit by light from the window, a silhouette of tall, lean gorgeousness. Louis quickly flicked his gaze away again. He didn't know anything about this guy, least of all his sexual preference. He had no business finding him gorgeous.

 

Harry brought over the tea, sinking into the sofa beside Louis, but far enough away to turn into the corner and regard him, blowing gently on the surface of his own drink.

 

Louis tried to ignore his gaze, went about warming his hands on the mug Harry had given him. He stared at the notice board in the staff room of their borrowed building. He eventually turned and arched a brow, wondering what Harry hoped to achieve with this bloody awkward and frankly ridiculous sharing of hot drinks.

 

"Tell me about you," Harry encouraged, his voice a hypnotic lull of accent and husk.

 

Louis frowned.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it helps me," Harry shared openly.

 

Louis gave a rather rude, impassive look away, back toward the door. Harry noted it and ignored it.

 

"What if I don't want to tell you anything?" Louis challenged, still looking away.

 

Harry sipped his drink and bit into his lips. Well, that could be a problem. Although he had managed to shoot the odd one or two subjects with little more than a name, he hadn't liked the outcome, hadn't marked that work as his best.

 

"Why do you want people to see you differently?" he tried a different tact.

 

Louis sighed, finally taking a sip from his tea. It was like the warmth from that slowly seeped into his veins and eased his tension. Not completely. Enough to find words. Harry watched him with interest, intrigued by his spikiness. It wasn't usual for someone to _request_ his services and then act like it was a chore to be there. Still, he couldn't say he wasn't forewarned.

 

"I'm just a guy with a guitar, I guess," he offered flatly. "Ex boy-band member. People seem to see me as this _twink_ ," he added disgustedly. "I'm so not the guy that wore stripy t-shirts and braces anymore."

 

Harry nodded. This was good. He was getting something here.

 

"I've already decided what I want to do with you." He said. And even to his ears it could sound sexual.

 

For the first time since they met, Louis turned and gave him a lop-sided smirk, a twinkle appearing in those flat eyes.

 

"Oh, yeah?"

 

Harry didn't know why, but he blushed. He hadn't blushed in how long? And there it was, hot and unwelcome on his face. He knew Louis was gay, but Louis didn't know he was, and here he was, a flicker of flirting going on.

 

Harry put his drink down, clearing his throat.

 

"Zayn has some fake jewellery. He's going to use some studs and whatnot...maybe punk up your hair..."

 

Louis blinked, passive again. Harry wished he'd just damn well spit it out already, whatever it was he was hiding behind those intense blue eyes.

 

"Okay," he shrugged, tiredly agreeing.

 

Harry wished he'd gotten Louis after he'd had a good night's sleep, and maybe a few more good meals in his belly, too. He looked almost fragile sat there, despite his guardedness and tense form. Still, he guessed he had enough to work with.

 

"Any music you want playing while we work?" Harry enquired, in no mood to hurry to the shoot since Louis still looked like he was made of stone and about to break.

 

"Whatever you like," he assured.

 

Harry blinked, nodding again. He leaned forward, finishing his drink.

 

"So, what about you?" Louis said then and Harry almost spat out his mouthful of tea as he choked on it.

 

"What about me?" Harry asked when he recovered.

 

Louis made an impatient toss of his head.

 

"Girlfriend? Boyfriend?" he asked, hinting whole-heartedly at his hope that Harry was gay.

 

Harry found it amusing to tell the truth.

 

"Neither." he answered, deliberately obtuse.

 

"Which do you prefer?" Louis asked then, growing bold.

 

Harry slid his gaze across the sofa, met the curious blue seeking his reluctant green.

 

"Boyfriend," he admitted.

 

"Not Zayn?" Louis asked the question Harry had asked himself just this morning.

 

He shrugged lightly, turning down his lips slightly.

 

"No."

 

"You look...good together?" Louis offered unsurely.

 

Harry couldn't help his grin. He tried not to, for the two deep dimples that grooved into his cheeks often gave people the impression he was an easy touch, a teddy-bear of some kind. In his line of work, he had to keep some level of discipline. he had to work to tight deadlines, direct people effortlessly and command respect. Dimples didn't aid that process so he tried not to smile.

 

Damnit if Louis hadn't disarmed him already. He sobered, biting his lip.

 

"Zayn is a good-looking guy," he offered in acknowledgement.

 

"So are you," Louis said and Harry was surprised by his compliment.

 

He looked up, frowning slightly under his lip-biting. Louis went about finishing his tea. Okay then. He was just being polite.

 

"I'm ready to start," Harry told him.

 

Louis nodded and stood, wiping his palms down his jeans front. They went through to the shoot room and Harry set filters onto his lights as Zayn worked his magic and picked clothes off the rack to hand to Louis.

 

Harry was pretending to be completely engrossed with his templates as Louis tugged his black t-shirt off to pull on a leather jacket, zipping it up over his bare skin. Zayn tugged out the collars, exposing some of his chest. Louis flicked him an uncertain look.

 

"Don't think my chest is worth flashing, do you, mate?" Louis asked the punky-looking make-up man.

 

Zayn smirked, flicking chocolate eyes at him, warm and amused.

 

"Shut up," he teased warmly and Louis was slightly shocked at his warmth. Especially as he'd come in here hardly the welcoming party.

 

"Always get told my ass is my best feature..." Louis muttered under his breath at Zayn's dismissal, still uncomfortable with showing off his less- than impressive chest.

 

"Collar-bones, mate," Zayn replied, with the same endearment Louis had used toward him, pointing at his chest. "To die for..." he added knowledgeably.

 

Louis slipped a look toward Harry who quickly looked away, ungracefully stumbling from his foot-stool where he'd been setting up templates to create a woodland on the back of the blank canvas behind where Louis would be sitting. The branches would impose onto his lean features, it would look hot as fuck and Zayn's work would only enhance that, Harry knew.

 

He swallowed hard and tried to regain his equilibrium, not even sure why it was suddenly missing. Probably something to do with _collarbones to die for_ , he mused.

 

Louis meanwhile, had turned his attention back to Zayn.

 

"So, you and Harry?" He asked, just to be sure, since he'd already asked Harry and Harry had scotched that notion.

 

Zayn was quite the joker, however.

 

"Oh yeah, every night..." He teased. "Deep and hard."

 

Louis' breath caught in his throat, shocked at Zayn's quipped reply although he had no right to be. The stylist flicked him an amused glance.

 

"You like our Haz?" he asked back, smirking.

 

As if anyone _couldn't_ like Harry, Zayn mused.

 

Louis blinked, exiting his stupor.

 

"No," he lied, clearing the husk from his throat. "No, just wondered, that's all..."

 

"Yeah," Zayn cocked a brow knowingly and Louis felt like punching him.

 

He turned toward the canvas layout, ready for his shoot.

 

Harry had set up a tripod but stood with a camera in his hand, apparently more keen to free-style. He stared at Louis a moment too long, his lips parted and his breath short.

 

Jesus, he looked beautiful. Zayn really was a master of his art. He's shadowed Louis' cheeks, added a lip stud under his lower lip, a nose-ring and two big studs to his ears. His hair was Sonic-spiky, coloured with green spray and it completely changed his face, the combination of piercings and wild hair.

 

Harry had trouble catching his breath as Louis re-took a seat on the stool. he really had the perfect vulnerable look, Harry considered as he captured a few off-guard shots where Louis looked down to his thighs, his hands rested between them on the stool, his lashes long on his cheeks and his lips just a hint pouty.

 

"Are you starting?" He snapped his head up as Harry came in close for a shot from above.

 

Harry licked his lips. No, these shots were for his private collection but he couldn't tell Louis that.

 

"Warming up," he offered.

 

Louis straightened up, putting on a mask, a show of motivation to do this. Harry bit his lip.

 

"Actually I'd quite like to shoot you just natural," he ventured. "You don't need to pose, I might tell you how to sit..."

 

Louis blinked. Natural. Right. He frowned, flicking his eyes to Zayn. Liam had found a director's chair to sink into, intently typing into his blackberry. Zayn gave him a double thumbs-up with a wide grin and he couldn't help his chuckle, something Harry captured with his camera.

 

"You're stylist is insane," Louis mused breathlessly as Harry snapped away quickly, surprising Louis with his intensity.

 

Harry seemed to sense that and stepped away with a 'sorry', then,

 

"Yeah, you need that in this line of work," Harry commented.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"You're lucky, having a buddy along for the ride..."

 

Harry regarded him, wondering if this was an admission of sorts. Did Louis get lonely? Did he know what it felt like to be pinged from place to place, no real feeling of home? Harry knew the answer was yes, but he wondered why he wanted to know all the words in between, too. The detail of Louis' life.

 

"Um...spread your knees?" Harry asked, startling Louis for his gaze snapped up again. "Put your hands between them, hold the stool," he added quickly.

 

Louis did as he asked, his back curving. Harry took a picture from the side, his face turned away from camera and then the other side where he face was turned to. He took one from behind and then in front, those collar-bones captured perfectly.

 

He chewed his lip, a frown working into his brows.

 

"Zayn, can we change the jacket for a t-shirt?" he called over to his friend. "A white one..."

 

Zayn nodded and pulled it off the rack, going over to help Louis switch from leather to cotton. Harry let his camera rest by his side in that exchange, even though his finger itched like mad to depress the shutter an capture Louis' naked torso.

 

Still, he could get into real trouble for that so he managed to resist the temptation.

 

Louis resettled on his stool, looking to Harry for direction.

 

"Same pose," Harry said, somewhat in director-mode now.

 

Louis widened his knees and rested his hands between them once more, back curved. Harry circled him, finally settling on a shot of his spine, his bones visible though the t-shirt. That's what he'd been looking for. Something edgy. The green, wild spikes of his hair were visible in the shot but he looked so vulnerable sat like that. He wondered if anyone got to see Louis this way usually.

 

"Okay, off the stool," Harry commanded and Louis slipped off the seat, his feet stretching toward the floor and reminding Harry that he was slightly diminutive. Only slightly, but still. He was aware. And that was never a good thing.

 

"Crouch down?" he asked, wanting to make the most of Louis' thighs here, the strength in those muscles, the lovely shape to his legs and behind in his pose.

 

He got Louis to do some tongue-out shots, telling him he'd add a tongue-stud after, make it black and white maybe. The shoot wore on, the music Harry had chosen gentle in the background since this wasn't exactly high-energy.

 

When Harry asked Louis to lean forearms against the backing canvas, Liam got up out of his seat.

 

"Nothing too sexual," he said, flicking Louis a look.

 

Louis was looking over his shoulder, silently communicating. He looked to Harry and Harry swallowed. He was only just starting in on the kind of edgy that had won him accolade the world over.

 

"It's time," Louis told his manager, as if that meant something.

 

Harry bit at his lips again, waiting for Louis' gaze to return to his.

 

"How do you want me?" Louis asked.

 

 _Right there with my dick inside you_ , Harry's brain answered, unfiltered. He blushed again, blinking as if to hide his thoughts from his eyes, like they'd magically be scorched into the air with the heat of his fantasy. He quickly dipped his chin as Louis looked at him interestedly and he faked checking his last two shots before he continued.

 

"Push into the wall with your arms a little," Harry said, and Louis' biceps responded just how Harry wanted.

 

"What about my pretty ass?" Louis was teasing now, loosened up a little from his earlier tension. He waved his ass side to side to punctuate his words.

 

Harry gave him a slow smile, one that nearly released his dimples. They tucked threateningly in the sides of his mouth but he quickly bit his lip to stop them flashing. Louis blinked, something crossing his face that looked a lot like agitation. Harry tilted his head and snapped him.

 

"Thanks," Louis muttered moodily. "Wait until I'm frowning..."

 

"Smiling emo doesn't really fit," Harry suggested.

 

Louis grinned to prove him wrong. He took a picture, of just his lips, fake stud and all.

 

"Are we nearly done yet?" Louis asked, apparently getting bored.

 

"Tommo, you absolute gay-boy!" came a loud, obnoxious voice from the doorway, the door having been thrown back.

 

Liam started, ready to tackle any untoward visitor but he relaxed as he recognised the blonde lad stood there with his arms wide open. It reminded Harry of how he'd stood this morning waiting for Zayn. And Louis moved into this guy's hug the very same way Zayn had into his. Still, he felt something itch at him as they embraced.

 

He hadn't asked Louis if he was single, had only assumed from the article he'd read that he was.

 

"Niall, you prick, fuck!" Louis was grinning so hard his eyes crinkled.

 

Harry snapped a couple of secret shots, sucking his lips into his mouth as he waited for the reunion to end. He shot Zayn a look. Zayn brought him a bottle of water.

 

"Who's that?" his friend asked.

 

"No idea," Harry shrugged, drinking down the liquid not realising how thirsty he was until now. "Thank you," he appreciated his friend's caring of him.

 

Zayn slipped an arm around his waist and squeezed.

 

"You're getting some great shots," he commented, having snuck Harry's camera from his fingers to flick through them.

 

"Hey," Harry pulled it back toward him protectively. He didn't like anyone seeing his final shots before he had.

 

Zayn's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "You like the subject matter you're shooting, huh?"

 

Harry blinked patiently, dismissively as Louis approached with the lively blonde.

 

"Harry, Zayn, this is my best friend, Niall," Louis introduced.

 

Harry went to put his hand out, only to be crushed into a hug. Niall smelled really nice and had soft hair that tickled his neck.

 

"Hey, how are ya?" he asked, Irish accent evident.

 

He hugged Zayn, too.

 

Harry found it hard to match up the Louis who had hugged this lad for five minutes straight to the Louis he'd had to work so hard to talk to this morning. He decided Niall must be a really good friend for Louis to trust him so much.

 

"We're nearly done," Harry offered of their time-frame, only half an hour left.

 

"You wont hear a peep from me," Niall promised, zipping his lips.

 

Harry regarded him with an amused glance.

 

"I'm sure," he teased with a wink, instantly liking Louis' friend who was warm and funny.

 

Niall winked back.

 

"Save the flirting for later, pretty," he teased and Harry found himself blushing for the third time that day.

 

Really, he needed to get a grip with that, anybody would think he was virgin the way he was going which was so far from the truth he almost laughed at it. Still, back to the subject at hand. Louis.

 

"Lou, do some topless shots," Niall called as he went and took over another director's chair, sitting next to Harry's tripod.

 

Louis made a face.

 

"Shut up, Horan," he derided.

 

"No, you should. Your tats and that...with them piercings...it'd look wicked..."

 

Harry looked at the blonde lad. He was onto something there. He'd shot Louis' collarbones, tattoo included, but still. A shot with his upper arm in, something poignant and beautiful...

 

"I won't do anything gratuitous," he promised huskily as Louis checked with him silently as to his thoughts. "You get to delete any you don't like," he added.

 

Louis twisted his lips.

 

"All of them if they feature this paltry chest," he derided, pointing to his breast bone.

 

Harry would like to argue, would like to say that actually, he didn't see anything paltry about Louis' chest at all. Maybe because he had these beautifully full thighs and butt, maybe because his belly was lush and his torso just the right side of toned. Maybe because his arms were defined when he tensed them, maybe because it didn't matter how his pecs lacked definition because the rest of him complemented that smooth expanse of skin, perky nipples peaking in the cool air of the room.

 

Harry realised he was staring a second too long. Louis had taken his top off and he was still trying to find words to tell him that his chest was _perfect_. In a way that didn't sound sleazy. He gave up with a determined frown to finish this shoot before it finished him.

 

"On the stool," Harry pointed, getting distance as he felt the tell-tale stirring in his jeans.

 

 _Fuck_. He shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be letting Louis go topless, shouldn't be inviting him to pose. He felt bold enough to reach forward, moved his forearm onto his thigh, tipped his chin away. He circled, flicking eyes down his back, gasping at the 'Kiss Me' etched between the dimples low on his spine.

 

"Yeah," Louis stiffened as Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Not so proud of that one..."

 

Harry shot it anyway- another one for his private album. He came around Louis' other side, capturing him as he looked up in silent question, as if seeking reassurance. The way he curled in on himself, Harry could guess as to his insecurity.

 

"Cross your arms like this," Harry made an 'X' with his arms across his chest to show. Louis followed suit.

 

He took the photo, asking him to look down, look up, look away, look at him. He lowered the camera at the image of Louis, covering himself, staring right at him with fear burning in his eyes. Fear of what? Of not being enough?

 

Harry licked his lips, dipping his gaze before he sank too deep into the blueness.

 

"Uh...we're done," he cleared his throat of husk.

 

"Yes!" Niall cheered with a hiss of victory.

 

Louis quickly moved to pull his black tee back on, sitting patiently for Zayn to undo his work. He still had a little eyeliner left when Zayn was done.

 

"Why don't you guys come for a beer?" Niall invited. "We're about to have lunch at the best pub in London..."

 

"It's his dad's," Louis shared, making Niall pout.

 

"So? It's still the best..."

 

"That it is," Louis agreed whole-heartedly.

 

Harry was packing up his kit, looked to Zayn who was also packing up.

 

"We have to take this lot down yet," Harry shared.

 

"So, meet us there," Niall shrugged easily. "Go on, I can get you free nosh..."

 

Zayn perked up at that.

 

"Sounds like a deal to me," he mused. "Haz?"

 

Harry looked to Louis. No-one quite knew why.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked the singer.

 

Louis blinked, then nodded.

 

Harry got the feeling he only conceded because Niall had invited them and Louis couldn't exactly un-invite them. But still, he could have thrown a pop-star strop about it and told his friend that lunch was for them only, not photographers and stylists to gate-crash upon.

 

"Alright, where is it?" Harry asked.

 

Niall gave him directions and his number, just in case. If they weren't there within the hour, Niall would send out a search party. Harry grinned at him and let his dimples break free. Louis didn't miss the exchange and turned out of the room with his friend and a confused frown etched into his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> Sorry about the confusion with the chapters, I do it every time! I had to post it three times even to get it to work and by then I was so tired I didn't check the multiple chapter box.
> 
> Hopefully you will comment what you think of the story?
> 
> Ang

 

Louis was well-known in the 'Lamb's Heart', but he always took pictures with the punters that recognised him. His hair was still green and wild, Zayn couldn't exactly do much about that but Louis didn't mind the disguise.

 

He almost wished he'd asked him to leave on the fake studs, enjoying his little foray into punk this morning more than he'd care to admit. Still, he was 'home' now and this was his favourite place in the world besides his mum's house.

 

His mum, who'd he'd been to visit for a long week before returning to London for his song-writing jaunt.

 

He and Niall started in on pints, waiting for their new friends before they ordered food. Niall regarded Louis with a too-bright smile and keen eyes that Louis knew only too well.

 

"So?" Niall asked, sipping his beer. It left a little foam mustache on his upper lip and Louis wiped it off.

 

"So, what?" Louis asked, back, nonchalantly.

 

Niall made a face, impatient and knowing.

 

"So, have you met anyone since we last spoke?"

 

Which was two days ago. Louis sometimes wondered about Niall's memory.

 

"Funnily enough, no," Louis replied dryly.

 

He lifted his chin as someone he knew drifted past with a wave in his direction.

 

"What about Harry?" Niall asked, making Louis choke on his mouthful of beer.

 

He wiped away the spit with the back of his hand where his card-suits bracelet tattoo lay.

 

"What about him! I only met him today," he countered.

 

Niall smirked.

 

"So?"

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"So, contrary to your belief that I shag anything that moves, strangely I don't..."

 

"But you like him," Niall accused.

 

Louis arched a brow.

 

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" he voted for a question instead of denial. Denial would only strengthen Niall's accusation.

 

"The fact you posed for him," Niall offered.

 

Louis blinked. _Yeah, okay_. Maybe he did put up a little more of a fight with most people who wanted to take his picture and maybe - _definitely_ \- he didn't like being told what to do. But Harry was different. Nothing Harry did made it feel like a command, like an order. He just kind of _asked_ Louis to do things. Things that Louis had a feeling would look amazing on film. And he couldn't deny he had done everything Harry asked, where he might usually refuse at least _something_. But he blamed his friend for the topless shots.

 

"You're the one that suggested I get my top off," he pointed out, in retaliation where he felt his defence was weakening.

 

"Because I wanted to see if he liked you too," Niall winked.

 

Louis squinted.

 

"You could tell in the space of five minutes that I liked him?" Louis doubted.

 

Niall grinned.

 

"I knew it!" he gasped and Louis closed his eyes, knowing he had just walked right into that revelation.

 

"Shut up." he grumbled.

 

"He's _so_ your type," Niall nodded confidently.

 

"Don't," Louis frowned, pausing. "Don't say it like that, like I just look for the same guy over and over..."

 

Niall sipped his drink, licked his lips free of foam. Louis thumbed the moustache away again from his upper lip.

 

"I didn't mean it like that," Niall assured. "I just meant he's good-looking," he shrugged. "And tall."

 

Louis narrowed his eyes. And gorgeous in all the other ways a guy like Harry could only be. Soft and hard and pale and strong...

 

"Well, there's a lot of good looking tall guys," Louis announced lightly, trying to

regain some control. "I'm sure I'll see a few more today that catch my eye..."

 

Niall snorted but Louis refused to degrade himself by acknowledging it. Instead he wiped away Niall's fifth foam moustache and turned his face up as someone cleared their throat gently beside him.

 

"This seat taken?" Harry asked, towering over Louis whose thumb had rested upon Niall's upper lip.

 

He sat and stared a moment, nudged out of his pause by Niall.

 

"Mate, you're getting weird," Niall teased, tossing Louis' hand away.

 

Louis came-to and pulled out the stool beside him.

 

"Do you want to swap?" He offered of his own seat on the cushioned bench, thinking Harry wouldn't do well on a stool.

 

Harry shrugged and Louis slipped across, murmuring a greeting to Zayn who took the other stool. Harry picked up a menu and began reading it.

 

"'M so hungry," he announced, his words relaxed and fading together.

 

Niall lifted his brows to Louis and Louis kicked out his foot in warning, catching Harry in his strike.

 

"Sorry," Louis smiled tightly. "Twitch," he excused.

 

Niall melted into loud guffaws as Harry and Zayn stared at him confusedly.

 

"Just ignore him," Louis suggested, chewing on his lip.

 

"What's good then, mate?" Zayn asked of the menu.

 

"All of it," Louis assured.

 

"What're you having?" Harry asked, still frowning in concentration as his eyes slipped across the menu.

 

"Pie and mash," Louis nodded decisively.

 

"Good, you need a bit of meat on you," Niall accused, to Louis' eye roll.

 

He subconsciously noted Harry nodding in agreement but decided to ignore it. Maybe Harry liked buff guys, who knew?

 

"Come on lads, lunch is on me," Niall prompted them to make their choices and while he was at the bar putting in the order, Louis flicked his eyes between the two new guys at the table.

 

"So, do you two work together all the time?" He asked, neither of them in particular.

 

Zayn replied.

 

"Well, when we can. We both get quite a lot of work on so we can't always but Harry's famous for his edge and I get him so it seems to work..."

 

 _I get him_. Louis didn't know why those words irked him. He nodded politely.

 

"Who else do you use?" He asked Harry.

 

"Depends where I am. I have a few contacts," he offered.

 

"Not up for a long-term gig?" Louis asked.

 

Harry shrugged. "Not easy to come by," he admitted.

 

"What sort of thing would it be?" Louis wondered, genuinely intrigued.

 

"Got asked to be the Queen's official photographer once," Harry offered.

 

Louis gulped down his beer that Niall had delivered.

 

"Your fucking kidding!" Niall rejoined the conversation with ease.

 

Harry shook his head.

 

"Why didn't you?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry flicked Zayn a look. They shared a secret smile. Louis found his hands clutching his thighs with unnecessary force.

 

"I can't pigeon-hole myself like that. I need the freedom to explore and create," he explained. "It'd be like clipping a birds wings, doing the same thing every day. It'd make me feel trapped."

 

Niall and Louis stared at him and Harry offered a smile to soften his poetic words.

 

"Of course, if it was the right gig, I might reconsider..."

 

"Lady Gaga?" Zayn offered with a teasing smirk.

 

Harry smiled, slow and lovely.

 

"Well...maybe," he tilted his head, more 'maybe not'.

 

"What's the ideal then, Haz?" Zayn wondered.

 

Louis was mildly relieved to find that Zayn didn't know _everything_ about Harry after all.

 

Harry sighed. "I don't know," he admitted sadly.

 

Niall slid his hand across Harry's shoulders, squeezing.

 

"You're too young to be wondering," he accused warmly. "Enjoy the ride.."

 

"That's what he keeps telling _me_ ," Louis shared. "Only Niall here doesn't get how crazy life gets on the road."

 

Harry shot Louis a look, his gentle green eyes meeting blue, wondering if they had something in common after all.

 

"You feel it, too?" he asked, excluding the others at the table for a moment. He faintly acknowledged Niall turning to Zayn to start another conversation.

 

"Feel what?" Louis pushed for clarity.

 

Harry shrugged. "Emptiness, somehow. A void."

 

Louis' eyes widened with his description. It was closer to the truth than he'd ever admit to anyone else. He may have adoring fans and an entourage he trusted with his life but it still didn't fill the gap. The gap that loving someone left. Because he didn't. Love anyone, that is. And he hadn't for a long time. Not in the traditional sense. Sure, he'd slept with the odd groupie but as for something more...his heart beat painfully hard for that.

 

And yet, he knew he couldn't have it. Not while his job took him all around the world and required him to share himself with millions. He couldn't ask anyone to settle for that. To be miles apart and to have to share him.

 

He hadn't answered Harry's question yet. He lifted his eyes, finding the words hard to push through his lips.

 

"Yes, I feel it," he husked.

 

Harry breathed out in relief, a smile flitting across his lips.

 

"No-one else quite gets it, do they?" he mused.

 

"No," Louis shook his head, sipping his drink. "They really don't..."

 

Harry nodded, pressing his lips together in an 'I do', kind of way. Louis couldn't stop staring at him.

 

"Fish and chips?" the waitress called, plates balanced on arms.

 

"Oh, me," Harry stuck one finger up, licking his lips as his giant meal was placed before him.

 

Louis took his pie and mash, Zayn having chosen a vegetable curry and Niall steak and chips.

 

"Here's to our prime, lads," Niall lifted his glass.

 

They all clinked in agreement.

 

"So, what are you two handsome young guns up to Saturday night?" Niall asked around a mouthful of steak.

 

Zayn slipped a look to Harry.

 

"Not much," he offered.

 

Harry smiled at him in that way again that made Louis wonder if there was something going on between them after all.

 

"'M busy," he lied.

 

Niall ignored him.

 

"Club night. New place opening. Louis' got free tickets..."

 

Louis arched a brow at Niall's invitations to the two new additions at his table.

 

"I didn't say I was going," Louis mused.

 

"Sure you are," Niall decided for him.

 

Louis poked his tongue out.

 

"Dickhead," he accused.

 

Niall showed him the contents of his chewed mouthful.

 

"Rude-boy," Niall smirked right back.

 

"I have to have my picture taken if we go," he mumbled, pushing his mash around his plate.

 

Harry watched him and frowned slightly.

 

"Oh shy-boy, Tommo," Niall ruffled his hair. "We'll sneak you in the back if you like..."

 

Louis twisted his lips. Well. He _might_ like to go clubbing if it meant he could avoid the attention.

 

"Oh, alright," he agreed reluctantly. His smirk softened his words.

 

Zayn looked to Harry again. Harry shrugged.

 

"You boys in?" Niall asked again.

 

"Louis, are you sure you want us tagging along?" Zayn asked and Harry was glad it was him that spoke his own fears aloud.

 

Louis flicked a look to Niall. Niall pursed his lips with a squint.

 

"Has he been making out he's all Mr. Big Superstar again?" Niall checked. "Why wouldn't he want you along?"

 

Harry gulped as Niall directed the question to him even though it was Zayn who asked.

 

"Uh...he doesn't know us?" Harry offered meekly.

 

"Okay, so, small, dark and handsome emo-punk and tall, dark and handsome hipster, tell me why Louis cares much about how well he knows you?" Niall challenged.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"Are you saying he wants to fuck us both?" Zayn spat out. "Because, mate-"

 

"No, no, nothing like that," Niall assured. "Louis is the prefect gentleman I can assure you," he winked right at his friend.

 

"I think you've said enough, mate," Louis offered tiredly, flicking looks to his new friends. "Lets just make it clear that anyone who wants to join us for the club opening on Saturday is more than welcome, _no strings attached_ ," he emphasised.

 

Harry looked to Zayn. Zayn made a face.

 

"Not sure I can make it," he said.

 

Harry smirked. He'd just told Niall he was free. But Zayn didn't really like clubs and Harry wasn't a huge fan but this was an opportunity to know Louis better, to see more of the lovely Niall and to make new friends in London where he often felt lonely.

 

"I'm in," he told the blonde.

 

Zayn smirked. Harry ignored him.

 

"Alright, Hazza," Niall high-fived him.

 

Harry flicked a look to Louis. Despite his words about them being welcome to go, he didn't look overly pleased with Harry's agreement. He began to wonder if he should have politely declined. He wondered if he should make an excuse before the weekend and just not go.

 

He tucked into his lunch and tried not the let the gnaw of worry overtake his appetite.

 

//

 

 

**_Meet us at the back entrance. 8pm._ **

****

Niall's text came at six. Harry was already showered and considering what to wear. It had been a  while since he had been clubbing. He selected his usual black jeans, some black glittered boots and a semi-sheer black shirt.

 

He left his hair loose, moisturised, deodorised, added cologne.

 

He slipped his keys into one pocket, his phone in the back, his wallet to his right.

 

He was ready.

 

//

 

Harry was magically let into the back entrance, apparently his name had been given to the guard there. He made his way down the corridor toward the noise, slipping into the club from the staff door, instantly looking for Louis and Niall. Although Niall had said to meet him at the entrance, he guessed he and Louis couldn't hang around for long especially since Louis was sneaking in anyway.

 

He headed for the bar, gaining a drink, looking about as he gently grooved to the music.

 

"Hey," a hand grasped his shoulder and he turned, hoping to see his friends.

 

An older guy smiled back at him, hair quiffed with big brown eyes.

 

"Hi," Harry greeted, lifting his brows.

 

"Wanna dance?" he asked.

 

Harry considered him. Not his type at all in actual fact but a dance might be fun. Might be a good way to loosen up.

 

"Maybe," he answered, stalling for time.

 

The guy smiled.

 

"I don't bite you know," he offered softly and Harry smirked.

 

"I do," he teased.

 

The guy leaned closer.

 

"I'm Nick..."

 

"Harry," he offered his hand. Nick shook it.

 

"You're not alone, right?" Nick checked.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Can't find my friends," he admitted.

 

"Can't believe anyone would let you get lost," Nick flirted.

 

Harry arched a brow. "New friends. Guess they forgot what I look like..."

 

Nick laughed at his joke.

 

"Impossible," he grinned. "You're stunning," he added.

 

Harry felt weird to be complimented. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it, but the words from this man's lips felt strange. He wondered if the words from anyone else's lips would sound as odd. Or maybe it was just one person's lips he was truly thinking about. Louis' lips to be precise.

 

He berated himself for letting his thoughts drag along that route when he had  a willing partner right in front of him. He could get laid tonight. For the first time in  a long time. Only...he didn't really want to. Not really. Maybe for the release, for the fact someone else would be tugging him off rather than his own well-known grip. But other than that...

 

He frowned. That was weird, wasn't it?

 

"Thanks," he managed, not sure of an adequate reply. Luckily he didn't need to find one.

 

"Hey hands off!" Niall's loud, obtrusive tones sounded out above the music as he dove through the crowd to reach Harry.

 

Nick turned with a piqued look of interest at the newcomer.

 

"Sorry, is he yours?" Nick asked.

 

"Yeah, he is," Niall put his arm around Harry's waist, making Harry smile at him bemusedly. As far as he knew, Niall was straight.

 

Nick flicked Harry a look. Harry nodded.

 

"It's true."

 

"You lied about being single," Nick squinted, not angry. His lips smirked. "Don't lose him again," he warned Niall as he threaded back into the bodies surrounding them.

 

Harry looked to Niall as Niall pulled away.

 

"Christ mate, do you get chatted up a lot?" he asked.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Not sure I can be your white knight every time," he teased.

 

Harry chuckled, enveloping him in a hug.

 

"It's good to see you," he said.

 

Niall tipped his head, gestured for Harry to follow. He took them through to the VIP lounge where Louis was dancing away, sweaty and half-drunk by the looks of things. Niall put another drink into his hand after a quick trip to the bar.

 

"We got here early, sorry we didn't wait," he said and Harry nodded.

 

"S'okay. I can cope," he assured.

 

He'd lived most of his adult life in solitary confinement, walking into a club wasn't a big deal to him.

 

"You should head up there and join him," he pointed his glass toward Louis, raving away.

 

Harry lifted his brows, sipping his drink.

 

"You?" he asked.

 

Niall shook his head.

 

"I'm cruising for a girl tonight," he shared. "You're way too handsome to be my wingman, as is Lou," he decided.

 

Harry cast a look up at the dance floor again, finding Louis jumping up and down, glow-bar clutched in his hand. It was a far cry from the vulnerable and edgy guy he'd met earlier in the week.

 

"I thought he didn't want to come?" Harry mused to himself.

 

"He gets pictured a lot," Niall answered anyway. "He likes to just let go for a while, no cameras..."

 

Harry nodded. Understandable.

 

"There's paps here?" He wondered.

 

"Outside," Niall nodded. "Hard to keep him under the radar," he admitted.

 

Harry looked at Niall then, in deep consideration.

 

"You try," he said, not knowing why he was surprised by this fact. If his best friend was famous, he'd do the same thing.

 

Niall nodded. "It's like the more they picture him, the more self-conscious he gets..."

 

Harry flicked another look up at the writhing bodies on the dance floor as if looking at Louis with this new piece of information somehow made him seem different.

 

"He doesn't trust me," Harry offered, more out of his own fears than anything else.

 

Niall shrugged.

 

"He's a good dancer, go and enjoy yourself..."

 

Harry downed the rest of his drink, ordering a shot before he headed for the dance floor. He tried not to look as awkward as he felt among these sweaty bodies, the energy and the noise alien to him as he came up behind Louis, not sure how to gather his attention. He ended up placing his large hands to his small hips as he jumped, making him twist fiercely to see who was broaching his personal space.

 

"Oh!" Louis breathed out as Harry let go with a little wave. "It's you..."

 

Harry nodded and started to bop to the music, gently segueing his way into he circle Louis had generated with his fellow clubbers. Harry was a horrible dancer, he threw in some novelty moves to entertain the other revellers but mostly tried to stick to some easy grooving.

 

Nick was on the dance floor and his face brightened as he spotted Harry- minus his cover, Niall.

 

"Hey," he jumped into Harry's shoulder, turning to come right up in front of him where he danced sexily against him. "You made it!"

 

Harry glanced over Nick's shoulder to where Louis arched a brow, tapping Nick on the shoulder. Nick turned, a questioning frown on his face.

 

"That's my dance-partner!" Louis yelled above the music.

 

Nick raised a brow at Harry.

 

"How many boyfriends do you have?" he wondered, dancing away.

 

Harry smiled wanly at Louis.

 

"You have a boyfriend?" Louis asked.

 

Harry nodded, just to tease him. "Niall," he explained.

 

Louis melted into a crinkle-eyed grin. He was still moving, still buzzing on energy. Harry gulped as Louis came closer; crowded in by revellers and somewhat protective in his manoeuvre.

 

Harry wasn't sure what to do so he danced, letting Louis dance in front of him, his tan skin shined with sweat and his eye-lashes painted the colours of the disco lights that swung around.

 

They were there a while, until Harry got thirsty and dragged through the treacle of crowd to get to the bar where he stumbled gently, ordering himself and Louis a drink. Perhaps what was surprising was when Louis fell into his back; a little tipsy and lacking balance. He clung onto Harry, though, smile wide and eyes bright.

 

"Excellent night!" Louis exclaimed, maybe a little loudly.

 

Harry passed him his drink, wondering if he should have gotten water instead of the whiskey Louis was draining away.

 

"Is there somewhere quiet?" Harry asked loudly.

 

Louis ordered another drink, a shot this time, downed it quickly.

 

"Not a dancer, huh?" Louis guessed.

 

Harry shrugged a shoulder up. No, he really wasn't.

 

Louis reached forward, circled his fingers around Harry's wrist and turned, tugging him toward the back of the room. In the dark there were black curtains, drawn but hazed with light behind them. The material reminded Harry of his shirt. He ducked beneath the opening as Louis drew one of the curtains back, bringing them into a room of couples making out. Sometimes more than couples.

 

It was quieter in here, just the thrum of the bass behind the walls and a soft music playing, sensuous and slow.

 

Harry flicked Louis a look. Did he expect them to--?

 

Louis grinned.

 

"You wanted quiet," is what he said.

 

Harry let Louis lead him into the room of making-out, finding a spare chair. He let Harry sit in it and perched on the arm, sipping another drink. Harry wondered where that had come from and wondered if Louis had taken it off the table in front of them.

 

"So, this good?" Louis asked.

 

Harry glanced about them. Christ. It was awful. He tried not to show his disgust.

 

"Straight couples mouth-fucking?" he arched, hoping Louis would appreciate his acerbic humour. He did.

 

"You thought I was bringing you to do the same," Louis nearly-accused.

 

Harry relented with a smile.

 

"Not exactly that," he offered. Since he couldn't imagine Louis wanting to mouth fuck or anything else besides with him.

 

"then what?" Louis mused.

 

Harry lifted up his shoulder once more.

 

"Maybe you had a guy you wanted to make out with," he suggested.

 

"And bring you to watch?" Louis narrowed his eyes. "Because that's not a dickish thing to do..."

 

Harry realised what his suggestion sounded like outside of his head. He needed to try harder with words.

 

"I- I didn't..." He winced. "I don't know where I was going with that," he admitted. "Just that I didn't think you'd bring me here to kiss _me_ ," he added honestly.

 

Louis leaned onto his arm, making a face to make Harry laugh. Harry did, relaxing a little.

 

"No you're right, ugly twat like you," Louis remarked dryly.

 

Harry knew he was joking. But still. The day he'd walked into that assignment, he'd felt inferior to Louis somehow. He still couldn't place why. Maybe it was his coldness, the way he didn't let any of his emotions show. Harry worked much better with people that showed how they felt. People like Zayn and Niall. He wondered if Louis really wanted him to come tonight.

 

"Well, you should get back to the dance floor," Harry offered him an escape.

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"No fun without a partner."

 

"You did alright before I got here," he mused.

 

"Not the same though," Louis said and Harry wondered if that meant something.

 

"I'll come out for  a bit, then I'm going home," he compromised.

 

Louis looked at him, a slow smile on his face.

 

"Yeah?"

 

Harry nodded. "Just for a bit..."

 

They headed back out. Louis was closer to him this time, rested his wrists against Harry's pecs and giggled at nothing much- mostly the disco ball swirling and the way it made his eyes cross when he followed it about. Harry began to wonder how drunk he was and when the floor got crowded, he couldn't help loosely wrapping his arms around Louis' smaller form to protect him from the surging crowd.

 

There was a guy dancing behind him lewdly, Harry didn't much like the look in his eyes or the way his mouth opened and tongue darted out suggestively as he danced up to Louis' back. Harry turned them, deliberately blocking the guy with his arm.

 

Louis looked at him bemusedly as he staggered  a little from the motion, still within Harry's arms and safely kept.

 

"Some dick is trying to dry-hump your ass," Harry leaned down to explain.

 

Louis' mouth formed an 'Oh' and then he grinned.

 

"Thanks!" he appreciated, wriggling within Harry's arms, still bouncing up and down.

 

Harry loosened his hold, happy now that Louis was safe from predators. He was surprised to find Louis grabbing his arms to put them back around him.

 

"Think I'm drunk!" Louis yelled as Harry frowned at him.

 

Harry arched a brow. No shit.

 

"Need help standing?" he guessed.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

"Where is Niall anyway, I want to go..."

 

Harry looked around them, pulled out his phone and sent off a text. A few moments later, his phone buzzed back.

 

**_Found a girl, don't wait for me._ **

****

Harry showed Louis the text and Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"You wanna go?" Louis asked.

 

Harry nodded.

 

Getting out was amusing considering Louis' level of intoxication but he made it the toilets, pissed standing up without getting any on himself and headed out the back entrance to the car that had brought him there. He looked behind him as Harry hesitated.

 

"Come on, we'll drop you home," he offered.

 

Harry ducked into the backseat beside Louis,  sucking his lip and wondering what this night was, exactly. Had Niall asked him there deliberately to look after Louis, to make sure he got home? Or had he deliberately left them alone as some kind of match-making scheme? He wished he knew Louis' friend better to tell.

 

Louis was making dance-moves with his hands, murmuring 'little fish, big fish, cardboard box' as he did so. Harry was astounded really, that one of England's best exports was reduced to such drunken silliness. And he didn't quite know why, but he kind of liked it. Maybe even loved it a little bit. He tried to keep the grin off his face as his chest warmed in amusement and fondness.

 

"What?" Louis asked, loud and drunk.

 

"Nothing," Harry shook his head, pushing back his fringe.

 

Louis stuck his arms in front of him, fists balled as he bopped away to the tune in his head. Harry glanced at him.

 

"Do you ever wind down?" He wondered.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"You won't see me for three days- bed coma," he assured.

 

Harry nodded.

 

"I see..."

 

"Glad you came?" Louis asked, slightly slurred, a little eager.

 

Harry regarded him. Sure. He was glad he got to see Louis dancing, glad he got to _feel_ Louis dancing, glad he got chatted up and owned by Louis and his friend in the same night. Glad he hadn't taken Nick home or he wouldn't be sitting here with an opportunity to ask Louis out, to see him again.

 

But would Louis want to go out with him, that was the question?

 

 

"It was fun," Harry answered. "Might be nice to be able to talk to you next time," he added.

 

"I took you to the quiet room," Louis pouted, genuinely upset that Harry hadn't liked it there.

 

"You did," Harry allowed. "But maybe next time we can have tea or something..."

 

"Niall doesn't like tea," Louis offered.

 

"I wasn't thinking of inviting Niall," Harry looked over, making his point.

 

Louis blinked.

 

"Oh."

 

Yeah. Oh. Harry sucked in a breath and decided that a drunk Louis was maybe not the best Louis to ask out on a  date. He looked away as Louis looked to his hands.

 

"Come home with me," Louis said then.

 

"Wh-what?!" Harry choked out.

 

"You want it, I want it, why not?" Louis challenged.

 

Harry paused for a moment on the admission that Louis 'wanted it'. Wanted what, exactly? Sex? That he could give him but not without more. He shook his head a little.

 

"I don't do one night stands."

 

"How long are you in London?" Louis asked.

 

Harry shrugged. "I've got a few projects here until I go to Paris in two weeks."

 

"So, let's make it fourteen nights, not one," Louis posed.

 

Harry blinked at him incredulously.

 

"Is this how you live?" He asked, breathless with awe- and not in a good way.

 

Louis' shutters came down.

 

"Should have picked another guy," he murmured to himself.

 

Harry o'd his mouth, truly stunned. He called forward, asking the driver to stop. He was halfway across the seat before Louis stopped him, his fingers curling into the back of Harry's waistband to tug him back by his jeans.

 

"Look, I don't sleep around if that's what you think, so don't go blabbing to the press that I do..."

 

Harry slid out of the seat once Louis' grip on his jeans weakened. He ducked his head down, into the car as he stooped.

 

"I'm not going to tell the press anything," he assured, lowly, husky from where he'd been shouting over the music all night. "I just wanted to have tea with you," he added, turning and lofting the door shut with a sigh.

 

Louis heard it and let the door slam echo around the backseat as his driver idled the engine.

 

"Home, sir?" he called.

 

Louis looked out of the back window to see Harry steadily walking away, his beautiful limbs graceful and strong in their movement. He really wished he had played that one better, he mused.

 

"Home," he nodded, laying down on the back seat and curling into himself.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos and compliments :)
> 
> Ang

"Well?"

 

It wasn't even eight am. Zayn was on the phone while Harry idled in bed. He'd had a late enough night to enjoy a lay-in on his day off.

 

"Well, what?" Harry wondered.

 

Zayn sighed.

 

"Club night, what happened?" he asked.

 

Harry pursed his lips. He was going to enjoy killing Zayn's romantic ideals.

 

"I went, I danced, Louis asked me to be his fling and I came home alone," he recounted with a bitterness he didn't usually feel.

 

Something about Louis Tomlinson brought up the bile in his stomach.

 

"Brat," Zayn accused heavily. "What the fuck..."

 

Harry sighed. "He wanted me to go home with him and when I told him I didn't do one-night-stands, he asked me how long I was in London for and said we should make it that many nights," he explained.

 

He could almost hear Zayn frown. Almost.

 

"Prick."

 

Harry nodded. "I was asking him out for tea," he added.

 

"He doesn't deserve you, Haz," Zayn assured quickly. "Fucking idiot," he mumbled under his breath.

 

"Yeah, well. I'm going to Paris in a couple of weeks so maybe I can find myself a nice French man..."

 

"Oui,peut-être vous pouvez," Zayn agreed, making Harry giggle.  "You can be my wing man," Harry decided.  "Nah, mate, I'm off to Pennsylvania next week. Got a summer Goth festival on they want me to do make-up for..."  "Hey, that's amazing," Harry commended.  "Thanks bro. Look, I've gotta dash but call me, yeah?" his friend asked.  Harry agreed, rolling out of bed with a groan as his doorbell rang insistently.  "See you soon," he parted, swinging open his door swiftly to find Niall on the other side. He pressed his phone into his thigh.  "How did you know where I live?" Harry asked as Niall stood, finger posed to press his doorbell again.  Niall shrugged. "Stalker."  Harry didn't think that constituted a response, he didn't argue. "Right, okay, well, what do you want?" He asked.  "To come in," Niall said.  Harry was in his boxers, hair wrecked and feeling slightly dried out. If Niall was to come in, he'd have to make something to eat, drink and shower before they got down to whatever it is Niall wanted to talk about.   "I need to wake up," Harry told him.  Niall shrugged. Harry turned inside and let the blonde lad follow.  //  "You make a wicked breakfast, mate," Niall was speaking around a mouthful of Harry's offering- bacon butties.  "Bacon and bread, hardly science," Harry arched a brow.  "Louis can't even manage this much," Niall shared, as if hinting onto the subject he wanted to talk about.  "Yeah well, doubt Louis will be making me breakfast anytime soon, anyway," he mused.  Niall finished his mouthful this time, making Harry slightly nervous as to his next words.  "He called me and told me what happened," he admitted. Harry arched a brow.  "Look, we had a good night, yeah? The shoot's over, the club night was a one off, I go back to my work and Louis goes back to writing..." He offered. "You and me can still be mates, right?"  Niall nodded, seemingly with more to say.  "Will you talk to him?" he asked.  Harry felt innately awkward having Louis' friend come and try to smooth things out. If Louis wanted to sort things out, he would have to make the effort himself. He told Niall as much.  "Okay," Niall nodded in agreement. "As long as you give him a chance..."  Harry shrugged. "It's all words, really," he offered soberly.  "And that's why I needed to come here," Niall licked his lips. Harry wasn't used to seeing him so damn nervous. It was putting him on edge.  "To tell me to date your friend?" Harry guessed. Niall laughed nervously.  "No, to tell you he can be a dick sometimes. But that it's worth holding out for the rest..."  "Right," Harry nodded. Mental note. Look past the dick. Right.  "I should go, this is unbelievably ridiculous," Niall realised of his visit.  "Glad you noticed." Harry teased as he stood with the blonde lad, seeing him to the door.  "You free tomorrow- lunch?" Niall asked.  Harry thought about his plans. He had to sift through the photos and get them ready for viewing so Louis could have first refusal of any he didn't like. No point working on ones that would never make press.  "Yeah, sure," Harry nodded.  "Annabelle's, midday," he said and Harry agreed quickly, watching Niall disappear down the hallway. Now onto the rest of his day, he mused. He rolled back into bed.  //  Annabelle's was a bit of secret, really. He was surprised Niall knew about it, but then, nothing should really surprise him about the Irish lad. Especially not the fact that it was Louis sat at a table at midday waiting for him instead of Niall.  "Where's Niall?" They both asked, cutting over each other.  Louis rolled his eyes. Harry hadn't sat yet.  "Guess I'll go," he turned but Louis stood and grasped his wrist.  "Stay," he said and Harry turned back.  The table was far enough into the cafe that they wouldn't be seen through the windows. Harry had yet to witness any of the paparazzi that apparently inundated Louis' life, but then today he hardly looked like the Louis Tomlinson the world knew.  He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low over his eyes. He had on trackies and an old, worn t-shirt. Basically, he wouldn't look out of place having rolled out of his bed and coming straight here without changing. A bit of a slobby-student look. It was very different to the sharply-dressed Louis of Saturday. Different from the black jeans and tee from before that. Harry still didn't know quite how to peg him. He slipped into the seat opposite Louis' to maybe give it a try. Because he couldn't think of another reason as to why he actually sat down.  "I'm sorry," Louis said then, firm and honest. He met Harry's reluctant gaze and swallowed. "Alcohol is no excuse, but I say some really stupid things when I'm drunk..."  Harry watched as his eye lashes hit his cheeks, his breath leave his lungs in a sigh, a sigh of disappointed acceptance. Like he was always going to fuck things up and ask nice guys to sleep with him for the night-or fourteen, to be precise. Harry didn't know whether Louis deserved his forgiveness, but he wasn't much of a guy for holding a grudge. And judging by the way Louis was punishing himself, he was genuinely remorseful.  "In fact, I say some really stupid things, full stop," he finished his speech with the truth.

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Yeah, you do," he said, watching as Louis met his gaze.

 

"I...I don't have time, you know? Time to get to know someone, time to fall in love...sometimes when you meet someone you like, you just want to go for it, before the next thing takes you away or the press intrude too far..."

 

Harry wondered if that revelation meant Louis liked him. He wasn't sure.

 

"I just wanted to talk," Harry said, although he wasn't sure it made any sense.

 

Louis sucked in a  breath. "Okay," he nodded, as if bolstering himself. "Friends, yeah?"

 

Harry frowned, confused as ever. Why did 'just talk' mean he only wanted to be friends? He was beginning to think it was all or nothing with Louis. Maybe he really didn't want to get know someone before he slept with them. Maybe Harry was a convenient lay? He wasn't about to go blabbing to the press and he wasn't around for long. He guessed in Louis' world that was heaven on a plate.

 

It was all too confusing for him to try and make sense of. He ordered some lunch instead, making sure Louis had eaten most of his before he spoke again. He didn't want him to have any reason not to eat properly.

 

"I have the proofs with me," Harry offered into the still quiet between them.

 

Louis looked up, hopeful.

 

"Show me?" he asked.

 

Harry went into his satchel, pulling out two plates of icons, small versions of his prints. They were in colour but he'd marked the ones 'BW' he planned to do in black and white and let Louis' eyes flit over them before explaining the other ideas he had to add effects.

 

Louis flicked him a look.

 

"These are brilliant," he commended.

 

Harry smiled then, basking in the warmth of his praise. This was where he felt most at ease, talking about his work.

 

"Wait until the magazines get hold of them. _Interview_ have already been in touch and I'll leak a couple of out-takes on my site once you've taken out the ones you don't like..."

 

Louis paused on the second slide, pulling it closer to his face as his topless shots featured. It was like he was assessing every inch of his skin and finding critique on his form. His lips twisted.

 

"How did you make me look so good?" He asked, genuinely intrigued.

 

"Filters," Harry offered.

 

Louis nodded, swallowing hard. Of course. There had to be a reason that he looked...well...sexy in these shots. Because it wasn't anything to do with his physique.

 

"These are really amazing," he fingered them almost fondly, as if it wasn't himself in those pictures at all, but a person he dreamed of being.

 

"Something about a hot guy the camera loves," he quipped, making Louis look at him again.

 

They ordered desserts even though Louis didn't eat dessert. He didn't even know that Harry had gotten him to do that until it arrived and he placed the photo plates back on the table gently.

 

"Your camera is mistaken," Louis said then, a mouthful of mint choc-chip ice cream melting on his tongue.

 

"You're not hot?" Harry asked, about to be surprised by this news.

 

Louis blinked, a reluctant smile coming to his lips.

 

"Not in the slightest," he admitted.

 

"Loved the world over, adored by millions, lusted after by men and women both..." Harry narrated. "And yet no idea how hot you are..."

 

He found it intriguing. He wasn't one to boast of his own looks of course, but he'd never felt inadequate in any way. He wondered why Louis did. Maybe his lifestyle really did take it out of him, he mused. Maybe all the adoration only left him more empty because he had no-one to realise it, no real, tangible truth of being loved. More than that though, of being desired. Maybe Louis needed to feel desired more than anything else. It would certainly explain his proposition.

 

"What are you doing in Paris?" Louis asked then, pushing the conversation on.

 

"Fashion week," Harry shared. "They like to get some edgy shots of the models. Zayn can't come so I'm using another girl that used to tag along with me in Europe..."

 

"Do you get to see the city?" Louis asked.

 

Harry shrugged. "A little."

 

"No fun without a companion?" he guessed and Harry smiled.

 

"How's the writing going?" Harry asked in return.

 

Louis arched a brow. "Slowly," he admitted. "I think I may have writer's block..."

 

Harry captured his lower lip between his teeth and wondered if the idea that slipped into his mind would sound as insane out loud as it did in his head. His eyes sparkled from trying to keep it in.

 

"What?" Louis asked, jumping on Harry's sudden softening.

 

He hadn't expected the curly-haired lad to even speak to him again, let alone sit there trying to capture his dimples in between his cheeks.

 

"No, nothing," Harry husked, sipping his wine.

 

Louis pressed his toe against Harry's insistently.

 

"Come on, spit it out..."

 

Harry rolled his eyes, flicked his head back and tucked his fringe back as his curls splayed wildly about.

 

"Well...why don't you come to Paris?" He suggested. "You can write during the day while I'm working and we'll go and paint the town red at night..."

 

 _We?_ Louis blinked, stunned at Harry's suggestion.

 

"Mates, right?" Harry added pointedly, a little bitterly if Louis wasn't mistaken.

 

Louis thought it was the perfect idea. Maybe the best he'd heard. He might get some inspiration in a different city, with something to breathe life into him and a friend to keep him from feeling too alone. _A friend_. His lips turned down a little. His body wanted Harry to be way more than a friend but his mind was still in direct opposition to that so he went with Harry's proposal.

 

"Are you sure?" Louis checked, wondering if Harry was pulling his leg.

 

"Yeah, it'll be fun right? We can eat at all the nice places, go to the clubs..."

 

"You hate clubs," Louis inserted.

 

" _You_ can go to the clubs," he adjusted. "I'll...I dunno, walk by the river and listen to someone playing accordion," he invented.

 

Louis burst out some laughter at that, the sound strange and rare. Harry seemed to notice because he smiled, biting his lip  again.

 

"Paparazzi aren't allowed there," Louis added in thought to himself.

 

"Right. Best book your flights," Harry sat up, his dessert finished.

 

"What hotel should I book into?" Louis asked.

 

Harry waved his hand. "I have a suite, there's a spare bed."

 

Louis nodded. Right. Sharing with Harry. Mates.

 

Oh god, this was the worst idea ever, what was he thinking? He couldn't back out now...

 

"First class?" he checked of Harry's flight.

 

"Nope, standard," Harry corrected.

 

Louis looked surprised.

 

"Staying in a  suite but standard class flights?"

 

"The fashion house got me the room," he explained. "Not my choice."

 

"Okay, I'll come to Paris," Louis assured, more to himself than Harry.

 

"Cool. You think we could get that tea before we go?" He asked.

 

Louis looked at him and for the first time since they'd met, he offered him a genuine smile.

 

"I'm paying," he said.

 

Harry winked. "Don't need a sugar-daddy y'know..."

 

Louis smiled back, his smile faltering as one of the waitresses asked for his autograph. It started a spate of signings as patrons in the cafe recognised him and came traipsing over. Louis told Harry not to wait for him, but Harry took photos with phone-cameras, ever the patient companion.

 

"So, guess I'll see you for tea," Harry said as they came outside.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"And bring me the prints when you've worked your magic..."

 

"You sure there's none you want deleted?" Harry checked.

 

Louis' tongue wanted to tell him to delete them all, especially the topless ones. He shook his head resolutely.

 

"I trust you," was all he said.

 

Harry wondered if that were true.

 

//

 

 

Harry had finished the bulk of his work on Louis' shots a couple of days later. Which was handy since they were meeting for tea in ten minutes. Harry was already running late. He snatched up his ipad and thundered down the stairs, quickly tying a blue bandana into his hair as he walked, all long legs and girly swing to his hips. His black underwear was peeking above the low rise of his jeans, his crinkled white shirt not quite smart enough to cover his long body. There were two buttons missing at the bottom, sneaking the edges away in the breeze to expose his belly.

 

He hastened towards Annabelle's, determined to be less late.

 

Louis was waiting, teas already served. Harry sank into the sofa beside him, Louis having chosen the more relaxed seat for this meeting.

 

"Sorry I'm late," Harry panted.

 

Louis' eyes flicked over him but his face stayed impassive.

 

"You're worth waiting for and you know it," he teased.

 

Harry smiled and opened his ipad, flicking to the pictures. He passed the screen to Louis, letting him study the twelve shots Harry had chosen for commercial release.

 

Louis went through them one by one, each time with a swallow, a little bite at his lower lip. It kind of made Harry want to bite at his lower lip, too. He leaned forward, as if about to do just that until Louis turned his face, enquiring silently as to Harry's gravitation.

 

Harry blinked, lips parted. _Oh_ , _fuck_. He'd almost kissed Louis Tomlinson. _Louis_ _fucking_ _Tomlinson_ , Brat and dick extraordinaire. Never mind worldwide singing hero.

 

He leaned back, licking his lips.

 

"Uh, just wanted to show you the two I'm leaking," he excused, taking back his ipad to showcase the shots.

 

One was the one of Louis smiling. The other was of his spine in the white t-shirt. They hadn't made Harry's final twelve, but Louis noted the one of him with his arms x'd across his chest had.

 

"That's fine," he nodded, twisting two fingers around his wrist as if to test his skinniness. Harry ordered his drink and two cakes.

 

Louis couldn't exactly refuse since he'd ordered them now. He ate the sugary treat with a reluctant smile.

 

"You're going to feed me all kinds of crap in Paris aren't you?" Louis accused.

 

Harry sipped his tea, nodding.

 

"'fraid so..."

 

Louis swallowed. "My mum's always ringing me and telling me to 'bloody eat something'," he quoted.

 

"You do, right?" Harry checked.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"I'm just slim. I lost my puppy fat and everyone suddenly thought I looked too thin..."

 

Harry flicked his eyes over Louis' form. A little thin but not horribly so. In fact his thighs were nicely full as was his behind. And he'd had this urge since the day they'd met to kiss Louis' belly but he had no idea why. Maybe because something about the way Louis regarded himself made Harry believe Louis hated his belly more than his chest. He'd probably kiss all of him to try and fight that idea, but that daydream had no place in his mind.

 

"Will I see you before Paris?" Harry wondered.

 

Louis bit at his lips.

 

"Thought you could come over, maybe Saturday to watch the footie?" He suggested. "You can stay the night and see if I'm the kind of room-mate you want on your trip..."

 

Harry regarded him with mild amusement.

 

"You like football, really?" he teased with a shake of his head. "That's a deal-breaker for me..."

 

Louis blinked, not sure if he was joking. Harry's dimple deepened in his face.

 

 _Oh right, he was joking._ Thank god for that.

 

"I'll text you my address," Louis added.

 

"Alright then," Harry stood and stretched his arms above his head, his shirt pulling all the way up to showcase the milky skin of his abdomen, underwear band and all.

 

 _Christ_.

 

Louis had to look away as he felt the instantaneous reaction in his own jeans. Harry was beyond gorgeous. He was muscled and soft-looking and had a ripped belly and a 'V' cut under his hips leading into his jeans. It was all Louis could do not to rip those damn jeans off to see where that 'V' ended. He sat on his hands to stop the urge.

 

"You're going already?" Louis said, hoping to sound cool, knowing he didn't pull it off.

 

Harry sat back down.

 

"No, I was just stretching," he lied, giving Louis a sheepish smile.

 

"Giving the room a heart attack," Louis murmured to himself, pulling his hands from under his thighs.

 

Harry lifted his brows in question to Louis' mutterings, but Louis didn't bother to repeat himself.

 

"So how's Niall," Harry offered for a topic of conversation.

 

"He's busy with his music school," Louis shared.

 

"Is he coming Saturday?" Harry wondered, imagining the Irish lad to be a big football fan.

 

Louis frowned. He hadn't even considered asking Niall. He flicked Harry a look.

 

"Just us," he said only.

 

"You gonna dig karaoke out so I can hear this famous voice of yours?" Harry wondered, all smile and eagerness.

 

Louis let Harry's easy-going nature wash over him. Maybe they could be friends after all.

 

"I don't think so!" Louis scoffed of this idea.

 

"Why not?" Harry teased him. "Been looking forward to some serenading..."

 

Louis flicked him a look. "Only place I sing other than on stage is in the shower."

 

Harry's brows lifted, he bit his lip becomingly.

 

"A challenge," he deemed from Louis' words.

 

"No," Louis denied, feeling irked by Harry's playfulness. He tried to remember what life was like before the photo-shoot.

 

"I'll make you sing," Harry nodded confidently, a sneaky grin about his lips.

 

Louis narrowed his gaze.

 

"Do you sing then?" he asked.

 

Harry smirked.

 

"Only when I'm really happy," he shared.

 

Louis tilted his head.

 

"Interesting..."

 

"Really?" Harry derided. "Because I can't say it happens all that much..."

 

"You're not happy then?" Louis checked, a little worriedly.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"I'm not _un_ happy," he offered. He was coasting somewhere in between. "Maybe I'll meet my soul-mate in France and I'll be singing all the way home," he suggested.

 

Louis couldn't help but swallow painfully at that thought. He'd had his chance with Harry and he'd fucked it up. He should be grateful Harry was still talking to him and wanted to be friends. Then why did he ache for so much more?

 

"Maybe you will," Louis pushed the words out of his lips, although they were reluctant to go.

 

"And you," Harry nudged Louis' knee with his own.

 

Louis made a wry smile.

 

"Can't say I've been too lucky on the love front," he admitted.

 

Harry pressed his lips together. Best not to go back there.

 

"Always time," Harry offered.

 

Louis nodded.

 

The truth was, now he'd seen Harry's curls and a glimpse of his naked body, he didn't really care much about looking for someone else. For some reason his mind was more fixated on how to see more of Harry naked. Maybe all of him, even. It was a far reach, a slim hope. But his stupid mind still hoped it.

 

"I have to finish these shots and get them signed off by Liam," Harry said, waving his ipad around.

 

Louis nodded, not stopping him from leaving this time.

 

"See you Saturday," he said, just to reaffirm.

 

Harry ran off with a grin, his shirt tails flying up as he turned out of the door of the cafe, glimpsing another flash of his belly to the world. Louis finished his cold tea with a new resolution. To buy Harry a new shirt.

 

//

 

Louis had cleaned his flat to within an inch of its life. He'd also tidied up beyond his usual extent, happy to live in a  sty most of the time. He'd opened windows, burned scented candles and set the lighting low and relaxed.

 

On the glass coffee table he'd put peanuts, m&m's and two pints of beer. The same beer that Harry had drunk at the pub that day, just to be sure he selected one he liked. He'd not bothered to style his hair, it was soft and messy. He'd put on joggers and a t-shirt, not sure what Harry liked, really so he aimed for natural. Harry had seemed to like photographing him natural so he hoped he didn't mind the slightly hobo tone to his usual wardrobe.

 

Harry knocked right on the agreed time. Louis had pizza on order from when Harry had texted to say he was leaving. It should come right after Harry's arrival.

 

He opened the door, finding the pizza guy early.

 

"Hi," he breathed out, not realising how nervous he was.

 

"Holy shit," the guy said and Louis lifted his brows.

 

They mostly knew him now from the pizza place down the road. This was a new guy, clearly.

 

"Thanks," he signed his receipt and handed it back expectantly while the guy gaped.

 

"Just in time!" Harry bounded up the steps, pausing behind the pizza delivery guy.

 

Louis looked at him expectantly.

 

"Can I take my pizzas now?" He asked.

 

The guy started, quickly handing them over, still stunned. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

 

"Can I...will you report me?" he asked.

 

Louis shook his head. Harry quickly took the phone to take a shot of them both, seeing this would take all night otherwise.

 

"Thanks, man," the guy grinned, turning to head back down the stairs.

 

Louis swept his hand across the doorway to signal Harry should come in. He followed with the pizza. He wasn't sure what smelled better, their food, or Harry. Scrap that. It was definitely Harry. His hair was soft, loose, curling temptingly. He had on those jeans he favoured, tight and dark and hugging his thighs. He slipped off his denim jacket to reveal a football shirt, much to Louis' surprise.

 

"You're a footie fan?" he accused as Harry sank into the sofa, gratefully taking a long sip of his waiting beer.

 

"This is great, you've been busy," Harry noted.

 

Louis nodded, passing Harry a pizza box. Harry snuck a hand inside and withdrew a slice, eating hungrily.

 

"This is my kind of date," Harry shared around a mouthful.

 

Louis glanced across at him, chewing on his own pizza.

 

"Yeah, pizza and footie?" he was surprised. Harry didn't seem like a lad's lad at all. Maybe he was wrong.

 

Harry smiled, glancing back at him.

 

"More your place, the beer and bar snacks," he amended.

 

Louis lifted  a brow. Harry liked his flat. Well, that was good to know.

 

"What's your place like?" He wondered.

 

Harry made a wry face.

 

"A mess," he admitted honestly. "Haven't actually unpacked yet..."

 

"From when?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry giggled. "When I moved in--three years ago!"

 

Louis softened at his laughter, enjoying his hot food and the strangeness of company. Niall came by a lot, his parents visited less often but mostly, he was alone at night here. His apartment felt completely different with Harry filling it up. Like it wasn't so cold and eerie with Harry's fearless laughter and easy smiles.

 

"You should really get to that," Louis chided.

 

"Yeah," Harry nodded, chewing loudly while the game started.

 

They spent the next hour cheering and booing, making noises of disappointment or hisses of victory. they slouched together on the couch, stuffed with pizza but still picking at m&m's.

 

"I only like the red ones," Harry said as Louis offered him the bowl he was nibbling from.

 

Louis sifted through them, picked out a few, trickled them into Harry's palm. Harry looked at him, smiling bemusedly.

 

"What?" Louis asked.

 

"You picked them out for me," Harry said.

 

Louis swallowed. Was that the wrong thing to do?

 

"I've got clean hands," he defended.

 

Harry laughed heartily.

 

"Never mind," he shook his head, sinking lower. Louis curled his legs up and it wasn't to lean against Harry's arm, it really wasn't.

 

Who was he fucking kidding? It was totally to lean on Harry's arm.

 

"So we fly out Tuesday," Harry said and if he noticed Louis' sudden weight against him he didn't mention it.

 

"There'll be paps at the airport," Louis warned.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Good, about time I got my picture in the paper..."

 

Louis let out a breath of amusement.

 

"You say that now..."

 

"Yuh-huh," Harry nodded, all drunk on sugar and beer.

 

"Wanna watch a movie?" Louis asked now the game was over.

 

"Sure," he agreed, shifting to go sideways, curling up against the arm rest. Louis couldn't lean into his arm anymore. He leaned the other way, flicking through channels, picking an action film, his feet mingling with Harry's where they met in the middle.

 

Harry grabbed a cushion and hugged it, his face all happy and dimpled as he gazed at the screen. Louis' face would be a lot happier if he could get closer to Harry but that seemingly wasn't going to happen tonight.

 

"Can I come and watch you work?" Louis wondered of their time in Paris.

 

Harry looked over.

 

"You don't want to write?"

 

Louis shrugged. "It might give me something to write about...."

 

"The world of bulimia and too-skinny models. I'm sure the world is dying to hear all about it," Harry derided.

 

"You probably like to work alone," Louis said to save his graces.

 

Harry flicked him another look.

 

"No, you can tag along, I don't mind. You'll probably get mobbed by models, though. They love the singers," he mused.

 

Louis smirked. "Everyone knows I'm gay by now."

 

Harry smirked right back. "That won't stop them."

 

Louis lifted his brows.

 

"Maybe I should go in disguise."

 

"A wig and some glasses," Harry teased.

 

Louis grinned. "I'll grow some scruff..."

 

"Just wear what you have on now, seriously no-one will think it's you..."

 

"What's wrong with what I have on now?" Louis pouted.

 

"You don't look like you normally do," Harry pointed out, which was true. And it had gotten Louis to lunch with him without being seen.

 

"I just want to be there already," Louis sighed, desperate for this break away.

 

Harry turned onto his back, crossing his legs, not watching the film anymore.

 

"You've really never been?"

 

"For a gig, once," Louis shared. "Didn't get time to look around...no-one to share it with." he added.

 

"We'll do the whole tourist thing, okay?" Harry promised. "We'll do the Tower the night we get there..."

 

"At night?" Louis repeated.

 

Harry nodded.

 

"It'll be lit up, it's beautiful, I promise..."

 

Louis didn't doubt him. He couldn't wait to see it.

 

"There's a little place down there, opens at sunrise and does the best crepes. If we can stay awake all night, I'll take you there..."

 

Louis was just glad he was going with Harry on this trip, a guy who knew the intimacies of Paris, not just the obvious.

 

"I'll stay awake," Louis promised quickly.

 

"Alright," Harry chuckled.

 

Louis dug his toe into Harry's shin.

 

"I will."

 

"Okay, I believe you," Harry flicked him an amused look.

 

"You wanna bed down?" Louis lifted his head to check on his guest.

 

Harry shrugged. He quite liked being mashed in together on the sofa this way. He'd like it even more if he and Louis were laying the same way, but hey. Such was life.

 

"Just stay here, I guess," Harry said aloud.

 

Louis got up and stretched, all lean form in soft clothes. Harry watched him behind curly lashes.

 

"Guess I'll go and sleep in my room," Louis said. "You want anything before I go?"

 

He'd already put pillows and bedding in Harry's room.

 

"Why the rush?" Harry asked of Louis' exit.

 

Louis looked down.

 

"I just-I thought..."

 

Harry reached out, wrapped his gentle fingers around Louis' wrist as he sat up, tugging him gently as he sank back down.

 

"Just chill out a while?" Harry said. "We can do that, right?"

 

Louis nodded. _Jesus_ , yes. He could do anything if Harry's hand was on him, literally anything at all.

 

"Come on then," Harry dimpled at him, making room. "Squish in..."

 

Louis knew for a fact they didn't need to squish anywhere on his giant sofa, but he shifted into the space Harry made, about to bend his arm to use as a pillow when Harry tugged a cushion out from behind him, pressing it into the sofa for Louis' head. Harry leaned on his own arm, close but not touching.

 

His eyes flicked over Louis' face.

 

"I really wish I knew what you were thinking," Harry mused.

 

Louis sighed out, lashes falling to his cheeks. Something about the low light of the room made it look like he was wearing eyeliner. Harry remembered the shoot and his fake piercings with a fond smile.

 

"You really don't," Louis assured.

 

"Sure I do." he offered.

 

Louis flicked his eyes up, squinting as if to seek any malice in Harry's intentions, as if to test his word.

 

"I'm thinking why didn't I just say what I really meant that night in the car, I'm thinking why did I let my brain leave my head long enough to fuck things up, I'm thinking why didn't I just curl up in your arms about an hour ago when I really wanted to instead of pretending that I was happy at the opposite end of this damn sofa...." Louis trailed off with a tight breath out.

 

Almost immediately after, he darted his eyes up in fear of his revelations. Harry's wrist had somehow come to rest on his side, right in his waist. His fingers were pressing ever-so-gently into the skin of his back, as if persuading him to move closer. Louis swallowed, shifted just the tiniest bit so that Harry's hand now cupped his lower back.

 

"What _did_ you really mean?" Harry asked, low and husky.

 

Louis had to furiously think back to his speech to get what Harry was on about. _Oh_. That night in the car.

 

"That I wanted you," Louis swallowed. "And I didn't know how else to _get_ you unless we made it short-term."

 

Harry blinked, sleepy and confused.

 

"You don't just 'get' me, Louis," Harry sighed out, nuzzling closer to his hair as if ready to fall asleep.

 

"I know," Louis wriggled, making a very bold move by nosing into Harry's throat. Harry reciprocated by tucking his chin into Louis' hair.

 

"So you just want me and that's it? No emotions, no nothing, just sex?" Harry asked.

 

Louis was surprised he was still awake, still listening.

 

"You don't get it," Louis whispered against his throat. "I don't get to have everything."

 

Harry's arm tightened a little over his side.

 

"Maybe you do," he offered. "You just don't let yourself."

 

Louis opened his eyes in stark realisation that this was the truth. He hadn't let himself get involved, wouldn't let someone in farther than he was willing to let them go. It had always been easier, _safer_ to take lovers, to _make do_.

 

Harry's deep breaths and light snores told Louis he'd drifted off. At such an important moment, too. Still, he needed time to process all of this, to understand what it meant to sleep in Harry's arms and to spend the week with him in Paris. He just prayed to god he didn't fuck it up this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you my beautiful kind lovelies
> 
> Ang

The flight to Paris was pretty quiet, considering. Louis managed to sneak into standard class, seated by Harry since they checked in together. Harry did an exceptional job of flirting with pretty much everyone to ensure Louis didn't get recognised for most of the flight.

Of course someone worked it out and Harry had to switch seats to sit on the outside, softly telling people that Louis was sleeping as they tried to approach. Louis was in actual fact sleeping.

Harry remembered still waking up on the sofa in Louis' house with no warmth in his arms, no extra weight to cling onto. Louis had gotten up before he'd woken, not something that surprised Harry exactly, but still, he couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to wake up with him.

They'd had breakfast of course- Niall was right too, Louis only served frosties- and Harry had gone on his merry way, another two shoots fitted in before their jaunt across the channel.

Paris held mixed feelings for Harry. He loved being able to work there, loved the excitement and glamour of fashion shoots. But this time around, he wasn't sure what to expect, what this thing with Louis was exactly. How did he introduce him? 

And then there was protecting Louis from the press. The Parisian laws on paparazzi would help, but they'd be spotted, of course they would. Would people speculate about Harry's friendship with the singer? Louis was the kind of popular that any boyfriend of his would be instantly regarded with disdain. Harry could end up being painted out as a bad guy here, even when he was just showing Louis the sights.

He tried not to think about any of that as Louis leaned on him, using his shoulder as a pillow. At least that's what Harry thought he was doing until he murmured.

"Someone is filming me sleeping..."

Harry darted looks about, saw a five-year-old with a camera phone. He smiled and winked, waving cutely. The kid giggled and stopped filming. Louis didn't move from his shoulder.

"How long?" He asked, husky with sleep.

Harry checked his watch. "Twenty minutes."

Louis groaned, burrowing into his shoulder.

"I hate waking up."

Harry made a rueful noise. Funny, he didn't have trouble waking up on Sunday morning...

The seatbelt light went on and Louis managed to straighten up, scrubbing his face with his hands and pushing them through his hair, reattaching his cap as he pushed it off. Harry cast a glance on him, a small smile tucked into his lips.

"You might get mobbed on the way out," Harry warned amusedly.

Louis smirked.

"Don't think I'm that charming," he considered.

"No, you're not," Harry agreed.

Louis looked at him.

"Not at all?" He checked.

Harry smirked.

"Maybe a little."

"Don't I tell you that you're pretty?" Louis whined, deliberately teasing.

"Shh!" Harry hissed, amidst giggles.

"You're so pretty Harold!" He called, loud enough for others to hear. "You have such pretty green eyes!"

Harry elbowed him.

"Shut the fuck up," he muttered lowly, blushing.

Louis sat and stared at him smugly.

"I made you blush."

"You're making me out to be a girl, that's why," Harry rolled his eyes, his hand rested on Louis' knee where he'd attempted to reign him in.

Louis' lips twitched.

"All man, I'm sure," he quipped.

Harry slid him a wide-eyed look as if to ask what he'd taken in that hour he'd been asleep.

Louis merely folded his arms and smiled, waiting for landing.

//

Harry was keen in Paris.

He wasn't shy about taking Louis' hand to pull him along, wanting to show him the sights. As it turned out, the place was crawling with people and Louis had risked going out in his usual jeans and tee with Harry's beanie on loan to try and disguise his hair.

Harry had wisely worn his sheepskin denim jacket and Louis shivered into the cold air as Harry led him through the streets, toward the Eiffel Tower.

It was lit up like Harry had told him. They took photos in front of it, a selfie together, tongues out. Harry climbed the stairs to the top with more energy than Louis gave him credit for. Still, he kept pace with him, tumbling out on the top tier, looking out at the sparkling lights of the city around them.

Harry grasped his hand tighter, jiggling with excitement.

"It's insane how beautiful it is!" he enthused.

Louis nodded, awed, looking around. He moved to the railing, Harry pressing in behind him as other tourist clambered up to join them.

"Hey, selfie," Harry said, bringing the camera in front of Louis' face.

It would be obvious from the angle that Harry was pressed in right behind him but somehow, Louis didn't mind. He smiled, sweetly, to make Harry's picture perfect. When Harry checked it, he gasped.

"You smiled!" he accused.

Louis rolled his eyes. "Yeah, don't get used to it..."

Harry couldn't help it, he wrapped his arms right around Louis and hugged him hard, cheek to his bicep.

"This is brilliant! I'm so glad you came..."

Louis let himself be hugged, turning in his arms when he let go.

"So where can I take you for dinner?" Louis asked outright.

It was late, there wasn't much point in fancy restaurants at this hour.

"There's food vans in the park," Harry said.

"Can I impress you?" Louis wondered.

Harry smirked. "I'd like to see you try..."

"Okay," he smiled, taking the challenge, also taking Harry's hand to lead him back down the steps which they boyishly thundered down until they met tourists coming up and they had to walk normal.

They ran out onto the grass, breathless with laughter.

"Monsieur, excuses-moi, monsieur!" Someone called behind them and they turned.

A young man ran across the grass clutching a bandana, one Harry had tucked in his back pocket for later.

"Merci," Louis took the scarf and bowed slightly.

The young man recognised him.

"Oh mon dieu! C'est Louis! Louis, vous êtes mon héros," he gasped.

Louis lifted his brows.

"Ah...Merci..." He offered, awkwardly.

"Voulez-vous une photo?" Harry asked.

The young man nodded, pulling out his phone. Harry took a snap, handing it back, but the boy held out his hand for Harry's phone instead.

"Je vais prendre un de vous," he said, gesturing for Harry to hand it over.

Harry stepped up next to Louis, slipping an arm around his waist.

"He wants to take one of us together for us to keep," Harry explained.

Louis nodded and smiled, wide and easy as the picture was taken.

"Vous êtes son petit ami?" The guy asked Harry.

Harry blushed. Was he Louis' boyfriend? 

"Er, non, nous sommes juste amis," he offered,

Louis was staring at him intently as Harry spoke the native tongue with fluency.

"L'un de vous embrasser," the guy held up the camera again.

Harry wondered if he understood the term 'we are just friends' at all.

He gave Louis a bemused look.

"He wants us to kiss," he said awkwardly.

Louis turned and kissed Harry's cheek as Harry's face curled toward him shyly, the young man clapped and handed the phone back.

"Sa très bonne," he grinned.

Harry found his smile weak in comparison, He handed his phone to Louis to check the pictures.

"Can you send me these?" Louis asked, leaving Harry speechless.

Harry tucked his hands in his pockets after that, letting Louis select which food van to take their quick meal from. They still had a whole night to walk away, or dance away, whatever they preferred. But Harry was determined that Louis would try crepes.

Louis picked a van that sold frites and saucisson and Harry really didn't have the heart to remind him of the several authentic foods they could be trying. Louis was trying to be sweet by getting him sausage and chips. He ate it with full cheeks and a happy smile.

"So what did that guy actually say?" Louis asked then, as they sat side by side on a bench, cool air wrapping around them. 

Louis shivered and Harry put his food tray down, tugging off his jacket. He wrapped his jumper sleeves around his hands instead. Even in summer it was cold here after dark and he knew that. Louis had dressed for an English summer night.

Louis put on his jacket and tilted his head into the furred lining, smiling and softly saying 'thank you'. Harry considered lying about what the fan had said.

"He asked if I was your boyfriend," Harry told him, finishing his meal with steady chews. He didn't feel all that steady. He hadn't felt all that steady the first time he'd been asked the question either, because something inside him wanted to be able to say yes and he didn't know why.

"And..." Louis prompted.

"And I said no, we were just friends and then he asked for a picture of us kissing..."

Louis nodded thoughtfully.

"The boy's onto something there, like," he mused, licking his salty lips and feeling the soreness on the soft skin from the grains.

Harry curled his neck around, frowning.

"You didn't have to kiss me," Harry said then, slightly separately from Louis' previous comment since Harry didn't know what it meant.

Louis blinked.

"Sorry, I thought-"

"No," Harry stopped him, a hand to his thigh. "I'm not upset. I'm just stating a fact."

Louis swallowed. "No, I didn't have to," he agreed. "It was just your cheek."

Harry bit at his upper lip, wanting to ask the question, not sure how.

"He could go to the press and tell them," he said.

Louis shrugged. "Yeah, he could."

Harry's frown deepened and Louis wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"You don't want the world to know about this, right?" Louis guessed. "You don't want to be seen as my boyfriend in case it ruins your chances..."

Harry's face contorted.

"No, that's not what this is about," he assured.

"Then can you clue me in to what this is about?" Louis begged.

Harry's eyes flicked over his face, fell on his mouth.

"What we are...it's confusing," he admitted.

Louis let out a breath.

"I know..."

"And-well..." He sighed, turning more inwards, towards Louis where their thighs pressed together from the angle. Louis reached across and rested his hand against Harry's forearm.

"What is it, Haz?" Louis asked, using his nickname in this cold, quiet moment.

Harry flicked his eyes up, still a furrow between his brows. 

"I wanted to-Well, I wanted to kiss you," Harry managed to stutter out.

He sighed out painfully before he reached up to cup Louis' neck, pressing his lips to the pair he'd been eyeing all night truth be told. 

This is what he wanted. He could say it so much better in actions than he could in words. And Louis' mouth was a safe haven as well as a dangerous invitation. Harry leaned in a little as their lips brushed together, slowly, sweet in execution.

Louis sucked in a breath and pulled back, in shock almost.

Harry caught his rejection and forced a bitter smile.

"And that's what I was worried would happen," he mused.

Louis touched his lips, stunned. Harry's kiss has been amazing. Jesus, he'd almost forgotten who he was for a minute there. He'd only pulled back because his seriously unloved body had jumped excitedly at the idea of lip to lip contact. Louis assured himself it would have been the same with whoever had decided to kiss him, but in his heart he knew it was really because it was Harry that was kissing him.

"That's not-I'm not..." Louis began in defence.

"You're not into me?" Harry guessed, looking away.

"Fuck, would you stop putting words in my mouth!" Louis hissed, annoyed. He was annoyed that Harry thought he didn't like him, annoyed that he was the cause of that, annoyed that he hadn't kept kissing Harry until they both melted into this very bench and annoyed that he had to spend four nights with him and try and act like he didn't want to fuck his brains out.

Harry needed more. Louis just wasn't sure he could give it. 

Harry was blinking at him, wide-eyed. 

"I'm not rejecting you," Louis began, his voice unsteady as he flicked Harry a look. "I just can't give you what you want..."

Harry arched a brow as though he disagreed with that statement.

"You don't want to," is all he said, quietly, to himself almost.

"I can't," Louis said again, his brows drawing together in earnest.

"You don't want to," Harry said again, standing and walking away, hands in his pockets.

//

The crepe place opened at 2am. Harry had taken Louis around the streets, dipped into a couple of bars to sample the French Biere and they'd eased into an uncomfortable silence. Uncomfortable was better than the awkward they'd suffered for the first hour after the kiss.

Harry made sure to flirt with every bar tender, patron and food-server that came their way that night and Louis enjoyed his crepes with acceptance that he had fucked up- again.

If he had somehow seen Harry's kiss coming, he might have been able to dodge it, make a kinder way of telling Harry that he was shit at this, royally shit. But Harry had kissed him and he couldn't take that back; nor Harry's perception that he didn't want to kiss him. He did, of course he did, but he had limited time here, always did have. Harry deserved more than snatched kisses and hurried loving.

He pulled his phone out, mouth full as he typed.

You'll never believe//  
You're worth so much more//  
Than a moment snatched//  
Your lips so pure//

Give me the starlight//  
Let it lead the way//  
To your heart tonight//  
I'll keep it safe//

I promise you I'll keep it safe//

"Got some inspiration?" Harry asked, slow and lazy, his tiredness creeping into his voice.

Louis looked up, finding the way Harry ate with his mouth slightly open in his laziness to chew more attractive than he really had a right to find something so stupid.

"Being a dick gives you plenty of heartbreak to write about," Louis conceded.

Harry nodded. "I can imagine."

They finished their food, heading back to the hotel where they crashed in their separate beds; exhausted and encumbered with the drag of emotions.

//

 

Louis tossed and turned for a full hour before he sighed and flicked on his light.

"I'm a fucking prick!" He shouted into the room. "Harry, are you awake?" 

He threw his legs over the side of the bed and came around the cove to find Harry propped on his elbow, rubbing his eye.

He was topless, his skin pale in the moonlight gazing through his open curtains.

"Am now," Harry mumbled, annoyed. "And yeah, you are a fucking prick," he added for good measure.

Louis stood, hands on hips beside his bed. He sighed.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I can't give you what you deserve, that to save you the heartache of this stupid life I live, I have to brush you off, because fuck it, but that's not what I want to do, okay? I just know you deserve more, Harry," he urged. "Much, much more than I can give."

Harry sighed and flopped back. Louis thought he might not say anything at all for a long while and fidgeted to move. But then Harry's hand twitched and in the next second, he was flipping down the corner of his duvet.

"Get in, you idiot," Harry husked, turning over to face away.

Louis didn't know if that was an invitation to spoon him or not. He laid on his back and bit his lip for a while.

"Are you actually going to sleep?" Harry accused sleepily.

Louis curled towards him, shadowing his shape if not actually touching.

"And it's not okay by the way," Harry added into the dark. "It's not okay for you to brush me off and it's not okay that you think you have to save me from anything."

Louis was stunned. So he had been processing his words, all the while Louis thought he'd gone back to sleep.

"No, you're right, it's not," he accepted.

"Goodnight, Louis," Harry murmured.

Louis let the edge of his cheek press into Harry's back.

"Yeah, goodnight..."

//

Harry was drying his hair with the hair-dryer when Louis woke. It reminded him he needed to get ready, too if he was going to join him at work as they'd discussed. He wondered if Harry wouldn't want him to go after all.

Harry seemed to sense him stirring.

"Sorry," he apologised over the blow of air, tuning it off once he'd roughly dried his curls.

"Can I still come today?" Louis asked.

Harry stood, long and lean in black jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair pushed back with a plastic headband.

"Yeah, course," he nodded, if a little cool in his response.

Louis flicked a look at him. Did he mean it, or-?

"I don't mind staying here," he said, as an option for Harry to take a way out.

"No, tag along," he assured. "You came for a break and that's what you'll get," he decided.

Louis got up and showered himself, selecting skinnies and a tee with Harry's beanie he'd stolen.

Harry's eyes went straight to it as Louis stuck his head around the alcove to Harry's side of the room.

"All ready," he said and Harry stood, bag already across his body.

Louis realised he'd been waiting for him.

"Let's go then," Harry suggested.

//

When they got there, it was mad. Louis had thought his life was hectic until he'd been backstage at a fashion show and then he really had seen it all. It was insane, people everywhere, frantic shouts and yells of annoyance, noise and bustle.

Harry was setting up in a quiet corner where he shifted about the fake plants and whatever else came to hand to make something of a backdrop. He always had to improvise a little bit with these shoots, he had little time and even less to work with.

The models dropped by as they finished one runway, before they were called for their next. He mostly shot them in their underwear, or just panties as the current case showed. He arranged them so as to keep their modesty, keep the mystique in their pose.

Louis felt shut out of Harry's snap-happy corner, sitting on the vanity table where the models sat before him looking into a mirror that pressed coldly into his back. Harry's chosen stylist was a girl named Perrie who he quickly hit it off with, loving her Geordie accent and warm nature.

"You sure you don't want a bit of make up, Lou?" She asked for the fifth time that morning. "Just a play-about?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "I can imagine the headlines now- Gay singer Louis Tomlinson goes drag for Fashion Week..."

She chuckled.

"Come on, pet, at least let me pamper you," she gestured to her chair when there was a lull in models to attend to.

Perrie trimmed his hair, gave him a beautiful shave and a face-massage, rubbing some nice-smelling lotion into his skin so that it felt soft and tingly afterwards. He opened his mouth to protest as her hand came towards him with an eyeliner but she gave him a stern 'Ah,' and shook her head and he gave up arguing.

She filled his lower lashes with black, wiggling her mascara brush along his upper ones, digging into her eye-shadow case with her finger, rubbing whatever colour she'd chosen onto his lids with a smudging stroke. Louis gazed up at her, hoping he didn't look like Adam Lambert.

He looked into the mirror as she flicked her bib away from him.

She'd picked a grey shadow, metallic but not sparkly. He actually looked like he fit right in around here now.

"Okay," he turned his face this way and that, admiring his cheekbones.

"Wow!" A guy stopped dead from passing Perrie's table.

Louis smiled weakly.

"Like, hell-o," the guy greeted, ultra-camp as he turned toward Louis. 

Louis quickly stood, offering his hand politely.

"Hi, I'm Louis-"

"Tomlinson," the guy finished, all bleached blonde hair and wide smile.

"You are?" Louis asked.

"A pain in the ass," Harry answered for him, clapping a hand on the guy's shoulder as he stood beside him. "Otherwise known as Baby Queen," Harry supplied.

Louis gulped.

"Really, your name is-?"

"Baby," the guy smiled proudly.

Baby turned to Harry.

"And what pray tell are you doing with Louis Tomlinson in tow?" Baby pressed into Harry's chest with a fond finger.

Harry leaned forward and kissed both his cheeks, mid sentence. Louis wondered if this were normal behaviour in these circles. He guessed so because nobody looked weird about it apart from himself.

"I'm working," Harry shrugged. "Louis here decided to come for the ride..." He added.

Baby turned and winked at Louis largely.

"And what a ride," he conspired.

Louis' eyes got wider if that were possible.

"You and Harry...?" He gaped, astounded.

Harry shot Louis a cross look.

"No," Harry frowned. "He's teasing you, can't you tell?"

Baby giggled at Louis' naivety.

"He's too young to be here, darling," Baby ran his hands down Harry's arms.

"I'm twenty-six," Louis inserted, bemused.

"He means in gayness," Harry offered, almost bored in having to explain.

He still hadn't said anything about Louis' make up but Louis hadn't missed the several looks Harry had flicked his way since he'd joined them.

Louis let out an insulted breath. Well, fuck. He just wasn't gay enough. Not even with make-up on. Maybe he should just go and fuck himself with a dildo while Harry let Baby touch him some more, he mused. Because that really wasn't getting to him at all.

He waited patiently, hand on hip while Harry made soft, intimate conversation with his fashion friend. Eventually, Baby turned and looked Louis up and down with a purse to his lips.

"Think you can cope with a gay club?" He asked.

Louis rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Harry flicked him a look, surprised at his sullenness.

"Baby can get us in if we go with him," Harry added.

"Okay," Louis nodded.

"Tonight then darlings," he kissed Harry full on the mouth this time and Harry-Harry kind of petted him back, little kisses and one blown from his fingers for the journey.

 

Louis frowned at him, more than confused. Was this Harry's way of getting back at him, or did he always kiss other guys on the mouth no matter who he was seeing? He folded his arms.

"What time are we going to the club?" He asked.

Harry shrugged. "Probably around nine..."

Louis arched a brow. Great. A whole ten hours from now. He picked up the notebook he'd brought with him, opening it and tucking himself into a couch away from the main activity; scrawling on the page next to where his lyrics already sat, copied out from his phone.

Am I straight or am I gay? Does eye make up change the way? I feel, I look, I want, I feel.

Its just all so bloody unfair.

SO BLOODY UNFAIR.

UNFAIR.

Louis sighed, easing up on the dark strokes of his biro. He pulled out his phone.

Nialler, where are you? Paris sucks.

Louis startled as a weight dropped next to him, half scared it was Harry and that he'd seen. Lucky for him, it was Perrie.

"Paris doesn't suck," she said. "You do..."

Louis frowned.

"Thanks..."

"Why aren't you holding onto that boy with both hands, a harness and maybe a leash?" She asked pertinently.

Louis lifted his brows. That was good goddamn question, where did one get a leash?

"Because I'm a fucking idiot," he shared this fact openly, if a little reluctantly.

His moody look was only accentuated by his dark eyes.

"Right, so why don't you stop being one?" She wondered.

Louis sighed. 

"I don't know how..."

"Did you see how he was with Baby?" Perrie poked him with a finger. "He loves it, loves the attention. Why don't you give him some?"

"Because my job keeps me away for months on end and so does his. Where does that leave us?" He asked.

Perrie lifted a brow.

"What else you got?"

"What that's not enough? Not being able to be a good boyfriend for him, not being able to be a boyfriend at all?" Louis argued.

Perrie grabbed his chin and moved his face until he was looking at Harry. Harry looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught. Perrie held his chin there while he looked long and appreciatively down Harry's body, wanting to hold him and kiss him as much as he wanted to sink into him and ruin him from inside out.

"He deserves more." Louis said, voice husked and emotive.

"What if he wants you?" She asked.

Louis flicked her a look. She kissed his mouth and turned his face back, so that Louis caught Harry's slightly aggrieved frown, the amount of effort he put into appearing uninterested as to what was going on, on the sofa.

"How can he?" Louis argued with himself more than Perrie. "He'd be fucking insane to like me..."

But Louis knew it, knew it when he and Harry had met, knew it when Harry asked him out for tea, knew it when Harry kissed him and knew it now as Perrie forced his gaze upon him, unable to touch but his gaze burning for the tall, lean form standing coquettishly a few feet away.

"He can't seriously want me," Louis frowned breath catching.

Perrie kissed his cheek.

"Get him before someone else does," she advised, hopping off the couch to return to her station, leaving Louis with a blank page and a hundred thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

chapter 5

 

You'll never believe//  
You're worth so much more//  
Than a moment snatched//  
Your lips so pure//

Give me the starlight//  
Let it lead the way//  
To your heart tonight//  
I'll keep it safe//

I promise you I'll keep it safe//

A river runs//  
Faster than I might//  
so take this water//  
And take the night//

Give me your heart//  
Tonight I'll make it mine//  
Under the covers feels so right//  
Your skin against mine//

I promise I'll keep you safe tonight//

Louis flipped over the page of his notebook, frustrated with the words, with the tune, with his absolute lack of ability to write songs anymore.

Someone lent him a guitar- a guy who looked a lot like a busker but Louis found out was actually one of the models and he sat and worked out notes for his dismal offering, running though it a few times unhappily. 

He let out an annoyed sigh as his plectrum pinged out of his fingers and onto the ground. A tall, gorgeous form bent to pick it up.

"You sure you can play that thing?" Harry asked, handing him back his plastic pick.

Louis twisted his lips. 

"I wonder sometimes..."

Harry sank into the sofa beside him, camera around his neck. He snapped a couple of pictures of the scenes around them, nothing major, just people working. Then he snapped one of Louis unawares.

Louis looked at him, a frown forming.

"You can sell it to the highest bidder and tell them all about how I'm not gay enough and that I'm a prick..." He offered.

Harry gave him an amused look.

"Yeah? How much do you think I can get?"

Louis couldn't help relaxing into a smile.

"So, go on then," Harry nudged his shoulder. "Play me something..."

Louis hesitated. And then he remembered Perrie's words. Harry needed his attention, Louis needed to give Harry something to keep him, to save this mess he'd created and kept making worse.

He strummed.

We're not, no we're not friends, nor have we ever been  
We just try to keep those secrets in our lives  
And if they find out, will it all go wrong?  
I never know, no one wants it to  
So I could take the back road  
But your eyes'll lead me straight back home  
And if you know me like I know you  
You should love me, you should know  
Friends just sleep in another bed  
And friends don't treat me like you do  
Well I know that there's a limit to everything  
But my friends won't love me like you  
No, my friends won't love me like you  
We're not friends, we could be anything  
If we tried to keep those secrets safe  
No one will find out if it all went wrong  
They'll never know what we've been through  
So I could take the back road  
But your eyes'll lead me straight back home  
And if you know me like I know you  
You should love me, you should know  
Friends just sleep in another bed  
And friends don't treat me like you do  
Well I know that there's a limit to everything  
But my friends won't love me like you  
No, my friends won't love me like you  
But then again, if we're not friends  
Someone else might love you too  
And then again, if we're not friends  
There'd be nothing I could do, and that's why  
Friends should sleep in other beds  
And friends should kiss me like you do  
And I know that there's a limit to everything  
But my friends won't love me like you  
No, my friends won't love me like you  
Oh, my friends will never love me like you  
Harry smiled at Louis as he finished singing, looking up to his olive green eyes.

"Am I any good?" Louis asked.

Harry's dimples deepened.

"I don't want to give you a big head, but I think you could go far," he said.

Louis appreciated his lightness in the face of everything heavy between them.

"Yeah? You're not just saying that?"

Harry blinked. 

"The next big thing, I'm sure of it..."

Louis smiled self-depreciatively.

"Five foot nine and built like a girl, hardly 'big'," he teased.

Harry's gaze slid to his lap. Louis didn't know why he found that sexy. He tried not let his cock twitch in desperate need for attention.

"Height is irrelevant to talent," Harry carried on seamlessly. "Good things come in small packages..."

"What's your excuse then?" Louis accused.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm an exception to the rule," Harry decided.

Louis nodded in agreement.

"I'm starving," he admitted then.

Louis smirked. 

"Want to get some lunch?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm shooting all day."

"I'll find us something to grab," Louis offered, standing. he felt eyes on him and looked back on Harry, a little off-balance at his evident perusal of him.

"Don't wander too far," Harry husked, low and claiming.

Louis wondered what had happened for Harry to suddenly be flirting with him, had Perrie said something to him, too? He headed off, not letting his mind venture too far down that path.

//

Dinner was more sumptuous than the quick sandwich they grabbed for lunch. 

Louis made a point of taking Harry to this really nice restaurant down the road from the hotel so they could go back and get changed for this club night quite easily once they'd eaten.

Louis hadn't realised this trip would be so all-consuming. He was seriously considering a whole day in bed tomorrow.

"We can have a picnic tomorrow," Harry leaned forward across the table, sharing this news with Louis quietly.

There went his day in bed.

"We can?" Louis ventured.

Harry nodded. "Got an outdoor shoot in the morning and then the whole afternoon off..."

Louis smiled, pure and hopeful.

"And you still want to spend it with me?" He checked.

Harry rolled his eyes, but shifted in his seat.

"I promised to show you Paris..."

"I think you could be forgiven for throwing me in the river and leaving me for dead," Louis offered.

"Hm, I could," Harry agreed. "But that doesn't mean I will..."

Louis licked his lips.

"So, I'm just no good at this," he said then. "Because basically I know that I'm never going to be the full package for someone, never be able to give them all of me..."

Harry swallowed his mouthful, hard.

"What if a little bit is enough?"

"What?" Louis asked, distracted.

Harry put down his knife and fork.

"What if someone didn't need all of you, but just a little bit, just the bit you can give?" He posed.

"Harry..."

"What if someone has the same fears and insecurities..."

Louis blinked patiently. What was Harry trying to say exactly? That he could accept the very little that Louis had to offer?

Harry stood up, grabbed his hand and tossed a wad of notes on the table even though Louis intended to pay. Harry pulled him out of the restaurant, down a dark alley where Louis wondered if he was about to bash his head in. He wouldn't entirely blame him and didn't try to stop him.

Harry turned him, pressed him firmly against the wall where his back arched but he couldn't say anything because Harry's mouth was already on his, his lips already owned by the taller man's soft ones. He gave up trying to talk, gave up trying to breathe even and moaned into the feel of it, of everything as his body burst into life.

His fingers trailed into Harry's hair, clutching him closer as his body arched off the wall and pressed for more of Harry's. More of Harry. That's exactly what he needed. More of his lips, more of his mouth, more of his kisses. Louis wondered if those three weren't the same thing and gave up on his muddled mind.

Who cared, really? Who gave a fuck when he was being kissed this way, drawn into tight, strong arms that promised to hold him.

"Louis," Harry broke off with a pant, pressing his cheek against Louis'.

Louis was trembling as he tried to regain some semblance of normality. He swallowed hard, trying to find words. He wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders while he waited for his brain to reconnect. It must have been the right thing to do because Harry squeezed him tighter with a little whine in his throat.

Louis knew what the sound was for, it was for the fact their bodies were hard with want but their minds and hearts hadn't caught up yet enough to make something of it.

"Do we have to go to the club?" Louis asked as Harry drew away to look at him.

Harry lips drew up in the corners.

"We are not spending the night making out..."

Louis frowned, grasping his hand.

"No, talking," he said quickly. "I owe you so many words..."

Harry bit his lip.

"Want to dance," he admitted shyly.

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "With you..."

"Not Baby?" Louis teased.

Harry tilted his head, a silent question.

"You seemed fond of his lips," Louis recalled.

Harry stared at Louis' mouth.

"Quite fond of yours, too..." Harry twinkled.

"You don't-?" he checked of Baby.

"No," Harry assured.

Louis let out a breath. He really didn't get it. How Harry saw past his flaws enough to find something to like. He didn't get how a few hours melted every angry bone from Harry's body to make him this way, soft and kissy. He didn't get where Harry had found the courage to kiss him again, despite the horrible way their last kiss ended.

And he was maybe a bit afraid of Harry's confidence, but not enough to say something stupid this time.

"We should get ready," Louis suggested of the club night.

Harry grinned and led the way.

//

Louis kept his make up on, not needing to salvage too much since the professional make-up Perrie used stayed mostly in its place.

From the way Harry was parading him around by their joined hands, Louis wondered if his new look wasn't part of reason Harry was suddenly so keen on him. He let Harry lead though, happy to wallow in his bright shadow, his big, warm persona and big, warm body a welcome sight for all he came across.

Baby stole him away for a dance or three and Louis had been left at the bar chatting to a French celebrity about the perils of the press, not in the slightest affected by the sexy little of his accent or the smoulder in his eyes.

Louis hadn't actually looked away from the dance floor since Harry had gotten on it, shamelessly flirting with Baby. Louis granted him the freedom. Harry wasn't his yet, he didn't have the right to go around demanding things. But maybe in his relaxedness it happened anyway because Harry was sure to avoid Baby's lips for the rest of the night.

"Come on then, Prince," Baby winked at Louis, pulling him into the throng of dancers.

The music here was a billion miles away from the club Louis had taken Harry to. The music was old and good and gay. He wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and twirled them, grinning as Harry lifted his arms straight up, like on a roller-coaster. Louis wondered if that's how he made him feel. Because that was how Louis felt every time they so much as touched.

"Last song!" Baby pouted as the last song of the night came on, a traditionally slow and romantic number.

Louis hadn't let go of Harry and now Harry had his arms wrapped around his shoulders. He shrugged helplessly.

"I guess we're taking this one," Louis mused, secretly pleased.

Baby winked and left the dance floor as couples came together, twirling. It was strange, seeing so many guys all in love with each other, dancing in the same space. Louis wondered why he didn't go to gay clubs more back home. He wondered if Niall would mind.

"I can be your hero, baby..." Harry was singing loudly, beautifully in his ear. "I can kiss away your pain..."

"And I will stand by you forever," Louis offered. "You can take my breath away..."

Harry clutched him closer, murmuring the words, swaying them side to side. Louis leaned back and cupped his cheek, humbled as Harry turned his cheek into it.

They smiled at each other, a moment-maybe their first moment- of true give and take, understanding and acceptance.

The flash of a camera brought Louis' blinking gaze away from Harry and into the crowd. Someone had their camera phone out, was no doubt posting this picture all over their media accounts.

Louis offered Harry a broken smile.

"You might be in the paper tomorrow..."

Harry shrugged, pulling away to take his hand.

"My boy toy is famous, don't you know," he teased as he pulled Louis toward the exit, gaining their coats- since Harry made Louis bring one this time- and tumbling out into the cold night.

Harry couldn't help his giggle, bubbling up inside him excited and happy.

"How can I sleep tonight knowing we're here? Under these stars, in the best city?" Harry wondered.

Louis lifted a brow at Harry as they began the walk back to the hotel, not far from the town centre.

"What is it about you and Paris?" Louis wondered.

Harry shrugged. "Never brought anyone before," he offered.

"You have friends here," Louis guessed.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, people...no-one special..."

Louis tightened his hand around Harry's.

"No-one special for me either," Louis said.

Harry smiled at him, all goofy and Louis wondered if he wasn't actually drunk and had been drunk since four o'clock when all this started.

"Am I coming to work with you tomorrow?" Louis asked as they slipped in between the rotating doors of the hotel entrance, heading for the elevator.

"Or you can have a lay-in," Harry offered.

Louis flicked his twinkling eyes up to the guy beside him.

"Nah, I like tagging around with you..."

Harry pressed the floor button and Louis looked at him. His hair was loose and wild from their night. He'd chosen black jeans and a vest, full gay mode with his arms bared along with his collarbones, inkings across the expanses of skin he bared. Of course his jacket now covered most of that skin, but Louis' lips still twitched at the memory, at wanting to press kisses to those inkings.

Louis felt small and short in comparison and nowhere near as sexy as his partner in crime.

"We'll get breakfast on the way, I know a patisserie," Harry said.

Louis nodded, watching Harry slide the key card through the scanner to unlock their room door. He watched as Harry made a running jump onto his bed, star-fishing out, making a bed-angel as he flapped his arms and legs.

"Take your bloody boots off," Louis chided, toeing off his own shoes, pulling out a t-shirt to wear with his boxers in bed.

He quickly and effortlessly slid under the covers, shivering. Harry- who was sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes- padded into the alcove and came back in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt, carrying a hoodie.

When he got to Louis' bed, he stood by the side and bunched the top up for him to slip his arms and head into. Louis looked at him.

"It's nice and warm," Harry said.

Louis slipped it on, pulling it down his body where the cosy material drowned him. He didn't care, it was a bit like wearing Harry- warm and soft and way too big. Louis settled, frowning as Harry went past the end of the bed, not turning to take the other side.

"Haz?" Louis called, wondering if he'd mistaken the last few hours.

Harry turned, lifting his brows.

"Sleep here, hey?" Louis invited, flipping back his duvet the way Harry had to him.

Harry came around in a curve then, slipping underneath the covers.

"I wasn't sure," is all he said.

Louis kicked himself for causing the doubt that Harry was feeling. He wriggled over, spooning Harry's large body that faced away from him.

"I had fun tonight," Louis shared.

"Me too," Harry smiled.

Louis reached over and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight, Harry," he said, settling back.

"Goodnight," Harry murmured, his eyes drifting shut way before his mind closed down.

He dreamed of disco lights and made-up eyes and hard bodies pressed together.

//

The hard bodies may not have been a dream.

He woke up sweaty and hard in his pyjama pants and it was like Mission Impossible trying to slide from under Louis' arm to make for the shower. Louis kept murmuring and wriggling closer, his own hard body part pressing into Harry's buttock each time.  
Harry sighed, closing his eyes, thinking of anything but the sexy form behind him to try and bring his body under control. Still, it was no use, he was already too far gone to try and go backwards. The only way out of this was release.

He wondered if Louis would notice if he carefully- and quietly- wanked himself off right here. He sort-of thought that he might even though he was still fast asleep with his own raging hard-on that Harry was finding even harder to ignore than his own.

He made a resolute decision to move, even if it woke Louis, sliding across the bed out of his arms and padding across to the en-suite with his dick in his hand, thumb to tip to stop the pre-come from dripping all over his pyjamas. He was so glad he'd worn pyjamas now. Boxers would have been a whole different story. He might have even suffered his first wet dream since he was about fifteen.

"Haz?" He heard Louis' husked, confused calling of him as he hurried through the bathroom door, closing it and leaning on it with a relieved sigh. He quickly slipped the lock across, his hand already stroking hard skin as his breath quickened.

He didn't have long before Louis made it out of bed and followed him. It didn't take much to push himself along. Just closing his eyes, feeling Louis' hardness pressing against his butt, feeling Louis' lips upon his, remembering the way Louis looked at him all intense and dark-eyed with make-up.

"Ah-" his breath caught in his throat as the golden ache enveloped his body, his semen releasing heavily against his hand. He imagined it was Louis' hand, imagined him licking up the mess.

He swallowed. Best not get too excited now he'd finally had an orgasm.

He opened his eyes, looked down to his now-flaccid dick, tucking himself away and washing his hand before getting in the shower.

He heard Louis moving about but didn't hear him call his name again, so he picked up the loofah and began to sing.

One Bon Jovi song later, he dried himself off and slipped on one of the complimentary bath-robes- the biggest one- and came back into the room with wet hair and a sheepish smile.

"Morning," he greeted, not expecting to find Louis bent over his suitcase, rummaging for something.

He paused, sucked in a breath and looked at the wall. The really interesting, plain wall. The wall that didn't have the enticing curves that Louis' ass possessed. The wall that might save him from a second shower- a really cold one.

"Hey," Louis turned, soft lips pressing together.

Harry wasn't sure if he detected some insecurity in Louis' face or if he just imagined it. It reminded him of the day they met, how he curled so vulnerably on that stool. It made Harry want to keep walking toward him until he had him tight in his arms.

But last night had been his doing, his advance, his expression of attraction that had moved them back into the awkward zone. As much as he wanted to wrap Louis up, he also wanted Louis to make some kind of move, some kind of signal that he, too wanted this. Whatever this was. 

Harry frowned, not sure he should think about that. He was having too good a time with Louis here in Paris to let it mar his mood.

"I'll just get dressed, then we should be going," Harry offered as they stood and stared at each other.

"Nice singing by the way," Louis said before Harry moved off. "Does that mean you're happy?"

Harry swallowed. Oh shit. He'd forgotten about that little revelation and he certainly hadn't expected Louis to remember it. He nodded, turning resolutely toward his wardrobe where he'd hung his clothes unlike Louis who fished his out of his case, creased and uncared for.

Louis headed for the bathroom and Harry couldn't help the relieved sag of his body as the door clicked shut.

//  
Harry was busy with a shoot that involved kites and dogs and a good amount of flesh on show.

Louis assumed this was not for a fashion house and Perrie had filled him in saying it was a magazine shoot, same models, but a fun scene.

One of the girls seemed drawn to Harry's side, kept hanging off him in between shots. He watched as Harry gently disentangled himself, murmuring in her ear each time which seemed to only make her giggle.

In his mind, Louis wanted to go over there, push the bitch off him and claim a hot kiss from Harry's mouth. In reality, he thought about the lovely picnic basket he was having delivered for their pre-agreed lunch and how they had all afternoon to enjoy the warm day and each other.

"So you stopped being a prick then," Perrie invaded his thoughts and signalled him to sit in the chair she'd set up.  
He jumped down from the concrete statue whose base he'd been sat on and let her hands run through his mane.

"I'm trying," he admitted.

"Good, because if you hurt Harry, I will find you," she warned.

Louis swallowed, flicking his blue eyes up until Perrie leaned over him a sweet smile on her lip-ringed lips.

"Do you know how hard it is?" Louis wondered, not annoyed exactly, but actually, nobody tried to even understand his side of it.

Perrie was combing his hair into some kind of quiff. He closed his eyes, didn't even flinch when he felt her fingertip against his lips, wondering what colour she'd chosen for him today.

"He's in the same boat as you," Perrie pointed out. "Never had a chance to fall in love. Don't you think it's time you let yourself fall in love?" she asked.

Louis hadn't even thought about the 'L' word to be honest. He'd been finding it hard enough to allow his attraction to Harry grow and be made real, and let Harry return that feeling. If he thought beyond their amazing kisses, he might start to get dickish again.

"One step at a time, eh?" Louis sighed, opening his eyes as Perrie poked his cheek.

She gave him a slice of melon to eat while she re-touched the model's hair and make-up, the wind and energy of the shoot smudging their look somewhat. Harry ambled over and wrapped a hand around Louis' wrist, making him frown until Harry drew it closer to his mouth, taking a bite out of his slice of melon. Louis watched with mesmerised eyes, licking his lips unconsciously as Harry licked up the juice, some dripping down his chin.

Louis lifted his other hand to thumb it away, much the same way he had with Niall's beer moustache but touching Harry was so, so different to touching his best friend. It was like just that small contact connected an electric buzz between them that hummed louder the longer they were close. Louis fed him the fruit, gravitating toward him until they were close, close and gazing, entranced by each other's mouths.

Louis didn't wait for Harry to finish his mouthful, he reached up and cupped the back of his neck; taking ownership of Harry's lips between his in an owning press, licking his tongue into his mouth to enjoy the sweetness of their shared fruit.

He didn't care that his hands were sticky, that Harry could only draw him close with one arm while his other gallantly tried to save their melon slice as their mouths met and joined in mutual enjoyment. Louis was on tip-toes, plastered against Harry's longer body as a fond voice called Harry enough times to bring them both from the abyss of their kiss.

Louis looked round, seeing Perrie stood with her arms folded patiently and a knowing smirk on her face. He took his sticky hand away from Harry's neck, the other wrapped around his shoulder clinging on also reluctantly withdrawn. He cleared his throat.

"I'm-uh," he frowned a little, heading for the toilet-block in the park they were shooting in, only looking back once to check on Harry.

Harry was watching him too, shot him a hopeful smile and Louis let his lips form a decent-enough smile back, but when he headed for the toilets, his heart was thudding wildly in his chest and he felt all kinds of sea-sick with the way his head was swimming.

//

"Yes, Perrie, m'love?" Harry turned his attention toward his stylist.

"When you've finished groping your boy toy, I need to know what to do with Amber's hair," she mused of the model whose hair she had back-combed and now which looked unsaveable.

"Braid it?" Harry suggested.

Perrie nodded, a secret smile on her lips.

"What?" Harry put his hands to his hips, pushing one out a little.

"Nothing, pet," she mused.

"Say it," he demanded.

"You're up and down like a yo-yo, that's all," she observed from yesterday's tension to today's all-out snogging.

Harry squinted. Yes, they were. And he guessed he and Louis might be on that up and down ride a bit longer unless he could formulate some kind of resistance to the smaller singer, or Louis finally decided Harry wasn't his type.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged to Perrie's light accusation. "Guess I am."

She reached out and squeezed his arm.

"You look happy, though," she smiled.

Harry let a shy smile slip onto his lips, a light blush tingeing his cheeks reminding him how he never blushed before meeting Louis.

"I am. Scared to be, but I am..."

Perrie frowned at his words but Harry didn't let her comment on it, heading back across the green to finish the shoot. It was just gone midday when they finished, Louis helping Perrie put her kit in the back of her car while Harry hugged all the models goodbye.

He felt a hand squeeze his backside and startled until Perrie was in his arms.

"Look after him," she told Louis.

Louis nodded. 

"Are you coming to the night shoot tomorrow?" She wondered. "Or is this goodbye?"

Louis smiled. "This isn't goodbye," he avoided the question. "If you ever come to England you have to look me up..."

"You'll be touring," she rolled her eyes. "Big hot-shot singer that you are..."

"I need to write an album first," Louis derided.

She turned his chin towards Harry.

"There's your album," she told him with a wink and a kiss to his cheek.

He watched as she scampered up the lawn to say goodbye to Harry; running past Louis again to her car with a playful smack to his butt. He lifted his brows as she went, breathless with the energy of the people he'd met here.

He started as a large palm slid across his backside, warm and gentle.

"Is she owning your ass?" Harry murmured in his ear, dimples peeking as he drew away to smile at him.

Louis gazed at him, his brain utterly blank for words to say.

"No?" he tried one that might make sense to Harry's question.

Louis' breath caught as Harry squeezed his butt playfully only to take his hand and lead them up the lawn.

"Your picnic basket arrived," Harry told him as they climbed up the grass toward a tree which would offer them shade and privacy.

Louis' basket and blanket were laid there, apparently delivered while he was helping Perrie. He flapped out the blanket and knelt as Harry sat cross-legged, soon stretching his limbs out to lean back on his hands.

He'd procured a fedora from somewhere and Louis couldn't help smiling at his relaxed picture.

"What?" Harry smiled, eyes twinkling.

"That hat suits you," Louis said, handing Harry a plastic glass, de-corking the wine bottle to pour him some of the champagne.

"Are we celebrating?" Harry sipped the fizzy as Louis unpacked the treats he'd ordered for them.

A variety of delicatessen items were included, along with pastries and yoghurts. Louis frowned slightly at his belly, running a hand across it as if to check it hadn't swollen too much in the three days they'd been here.

"Shut up, you're gorgeous," Harry pulled his hand away from his stomach, rolling across to kiss upon his t-shirt.

Louis bit his lip as he sat beside Harry, crossing his legs as Harry leaned up to eat. His knee overlapped Harry's thigh.

"So what's the plan tomorrow?" Louis asked.

Harry smiled into the branches of the tree.

"What's the plan today?" He asked pointedly.

Louis fed him a bit of Parma-ham, wrapped around some mozzarella. Harry bit his fingers teasingly before taking the offering.

Louis looked around them, seeing nobody much about. Despite it being Fashion Week and the city being packed with tourists and Fashion fans alike, he'd gotten away lightly with being recognised. They'd checked the press every day and there had been passing mentions of Louis enjoying the French Fashion shows from behind the scenes, the picture from the club eventually surfacing in online media but really, he'd been lucky not to be mobbed.

Not that he expected to be, he was just basing his perceptions on past experiences but then nobody much knew he was coming here and if they knew he was here now, they weren't seeking him out. He liked the quiet of the park, the potential to just lay here and be with Harry in the most basic sense.

"Do we need a plan?" Louis wondered, not wanting Harry to get bored.

"No," Harry shrugged, lips turning down slightly.

"Can we just stay here for the afternoon?" Louis asked.

Harry tilted his head, smiling at him.

"Yeah..."

"Be nice to just be still for once," Louis mused.

"And just us," Harry added.

Louis didn't realise Harry felt that way about sharing their time with other people. He felt it but perhaps didn't admit it and certainly didn't talk about it. The last thing he wanted was to be the guy that didn't want to commit but acted like an over-bearing boyfriend.

Because he could honestly be that guy and he could see that with Harry, that guy would be ever-present with the way Harry made him feel.

"You don't want to be out with your friends?" Louis checked.

"I am," Harry pointed out.

"Nice friends," Louis amended. "Ones that treat you right."

Harry sipped on his fizzy, picking up a strawberry for Louis to bite into. It took Louis' mind straight back to the melon incident and he couldn't help the catch of breath in his lungs. Was Harry instigating a second round?

He bit into the fruit and met Harry's gaze, watching him finish the remaining flesh.

"Sweet," Harry said, not much of a comment either way to return Louis'.

He laid down then, arms tucked behind his head. Louis sat, frowning, blinking in confusion.

"Join me," Harry said a moment later, his voice warm and fuzzy with husk.

Louis looked at him. He snuck his notebook out of Harry's camera bag where he'd stashed it and grabbed his biro, settling in beside him, under his arm, using his bicep as a pillow.

Sunny days give way to cloudy afternoons//  
Kites flying so high I wish I could reach them//  
You're out of reach, out of reach//  
I can't promise you a lifetime but I can promise you tonight//

Harry peered over Louis' shoulder to try and see what he was writing.

"Is it about me?" He asked.

Louis curled toward him; looking up a little as Harry looked down.

"Not sure I can put you into words," Louis admitted.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

Kissing with sticky lips I can taste your sweetness//  
All over the sky its written in the daylight//  
Why don't you kiss me, kiss me again//  
I wont promise you forever but I can make you smile//

"How about we stay here until it's dark and then find some insanely intimate little bistro to share crab and scallops?" Harry said then.

If I could make a rainbow fall I'd catch it for you//  
If you could take me for who I am I'd love you//  
If all the money in the world won't matter//  
I can make my life with you, with you//  
You make my dreams come true//

"Sounds good," Louis assured, still scribbling.

"#And if you make me, make me happy   
Then I'll sing a thousand words  
Because you make me, make me so happy  
I could fly among the birds#"

Harry looked down. Louis froze, his shoulders tensing. He choked out a sound of shock. Fuck. He'd just sung that part out loud. And Harry had heard it. Did he know? Did he know it was about him and that he made Louis happy? Louis wasn't sure he'd made that entirely, plainly clear.

"It's about you," he said then, biting his lip nervously.

Harry shifted, scooching down the blanket where his top rode up a little. he looked into Louis' eyes, smoky green on intense blue.

"If I make you happy I wish you'd smile more," Harry teased.

Louis let out a breath.

"The fact I'm not running screaming is about the best I can offer right now."

"Screaming?" Harry considered with a dimpled grin. "Am I that bad?"

"That good," Louis mused with a toss of his head.

Harry's gaze stilled him. He let his fingers push forward, the backs of them pressing to Harry's belt before he let them brush up, onto the skin that he'd bared wriggling down. His fingertips ran along the line of his jeans band; tickling the softness there. Harry shivered, nosing into Louis' hair.

"Not the place to be turning me on, Tomlinson," he husked.

Louis's eyes widened. His touch, his simple finger-tip touch could do that? He looked down, seeing the swell in Harry's jeans, pushing against the tightness of that denim. He tugged Harry's t-shirt down gently, wriggling closer, pushing his chin up so he could kiss him.

Harry leaned over him slightly, cupped the back of his head and their kiss was sweet with strawberry and bitter with wine and so, so consuming. Tenderness was Paris' middle name, Louis was sure. He loved this lazy, beautiful kissing he and Harry shared.

Harry Eskimo-kissed him as he pulled away.

"Tomorrow is our last day," he murmured, regret flashing across his face.

Louis shook his head.

"Only here."

Harry blinked, leaning back against the ground, curling his arm around Louis' shoulders where Louis now curled into his side. Harry had a feeling that back in London this bliss wouldn't last, couldn't last. He didn't know when his next abroad trip was, when Louis would be required to do something other than write. It got him thinking again to finding a steady project even if that meant compromising his artistic talent for a short time. If Louis was based in London writing for a while, he could find something, a slight step-down maybe, but something that kept him close by.

The only thing that screwed up Harry's plans somewhat was whether it was something Louis would want. He could imagine his proposal to stay in London for him would only make Louis more determined to push him away out of some misguided idea that Harry shouldn't put his life on hold for him.

And it was really way too soon to even be considering it, but truth be told, Harry had been looking for an excuse to set down roots and now he'd finally found one.

Louis' body softened against his as he kept him safe under his arm, against his body. When Louis' calf crept between his, he pressed his thighs together, keeping him trapped there tangled in his limbs. Harry wished this was how they could wake up every morning but it was yet to be seen.

"Won't be a dick anymore, Harry, I promise," Louis muttered in his sleep and Harry wondered if he knew what he was saying. Probably not.

He tipped his hat down and closed his eyes, deciding to enjoy the lazy afternoon.

//


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay!
> 
> In case you are interested I have a couple of Christmas Specials I will be posting :)
> 
> Ange

chapter 6

"Hey mister...hands up!" A small voice demanded as Harry opened his eyes, realising his hat was missing.

The kid standing over him with a water-pistol in his hand was clutching it, keeping it hostage.

Harry lifted both hands, the one that was curled around Louis' still-sleeping form reluctantly letting go.

"I've got your hat and I'm taking prisoners," the boy added.

Although he was speaking in English, Harry decided to play devil's advocate.

"S'il vous plaît ne me blesser," he begged, pouting.

"What did you say?" The boy frowned.

"S'il vous plaît ne blesser mon chapeau, il na rien.."

The kid dropped the hat and squirted two, three times as a loud yell for 'Corey' came across the grass. Harry was just wiping his face as Louis stirred.

"Is it raining?" Louis wiped at his face, smudging his make-up.

Harry smiled at him, thumbing away the smudges.

"Oh great," Louis rolled his eyes. "Forgot she made me into a girl."

"I like it," Harry considered. "You definitely don't look like a girl..." He added.

Louis narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe you can wear some make-up, too," he suggested.

Harry laughed, kissing Louis' forehead.

"Looks better on you m'love," he assured, slipping into his often-used endearment.

Louis took it as such.

"Wonder what she has in store for me tomorrow?" He mused as he woke up slowly, sitting up.

"Tutus and lace knickers," Harry nodded gravely.

Louis punched his arm lightly.

"Shut up, you wear it," he teased.

Harry's eyes twinkled in a way that made Louis wonder if he had at some point. He didn't ask.

"What time is it?" Louis said instead.

Harry checked his watch.

"Five o'clock."

Louis packed up the hamper as Harry tidied up and they took the stuff back to Harry's car dumping the picnic basket there along with Harry's camera bag.

"Is it too early for dinner?" Harry wondered.

"Walk by the river might be nice," Louis ventured hopefully.

He took Harry's hand as they walked, curling in close as they chatted, giggling at nothing.

"Mon dieu!" A gasp sounded as they passed a young couple, the girl in shock.

Louis smiled, about to greet her.

"Vous êtes Harry Styles..."

Harry's brows jumped into his fringe. He shot Louis a look, swinging their hands slightly.

"Oui, je suis Harry," he smiled shyly.

"You're an amazing photographer!" The girl tumbled into English with a strong accent. "The best!"

Harry moved to hug her.

"Merci, merci mon ami..."

She giggled.

"Can I have...erm...une photo?" She asked.

"Oui, vous pouvez certainement," he agreed. Yes certainly.

The girl's partner took a snap of the pair of them, Harry making bunny ears behind her head and kissing her cheek so she had few shots to take away.

"Attendre... êtes-vous des Louis Tomlinson?" She frowned in faint recognition of Harry's friend.

Louis smiled, nodding.

"Je dois avoir un de vous ensemble," she enthused, her face bright and happy.

Louis looked to Harry for a translation.

"She asked if it's okay to take one of us together..."

"Of course it is," Louis grabbed his hand and leaned in as the girl took her picture.

"Vous regardez si mignons ensemble... Je ne peux pas croire que nous vous avons rencontré..." She babbled in French. You look so cute together, I cannot believe we met you.

Louis cleared his throat, not sure what she was saying.

"Are you boyfriends?" She asked him, in accented English.

Harry fidgeted beside him, evidently nervous that Louis was being asked this question.

"Oui," Louis nodded, affirming her assumption. "Oui Harry est mon petit ami."

Harry stared at him for the longest time while the girl seemed to melt into hysteria and her boyfriend guided her away. Louis looked up, feigning nonchalance.

"How did you know what to say?" Harry demanded first off, which was somewhat of a relief to Louis because his first words could have been to ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing telling people they were together before checking with Harry first.

"Asked Perrie," Louis shrugged.

Their hands were still entwined, but Harry's grip was really tight and if Louis didn't know better, he might think he was angry.

"You practised how to tell people in French that I'm your boyfriend?" Harry's brow arched incredulously.

Louis cleared his throat.

"Felt easier than saying it in English, to be honest..."

"Because I'm not?" Harry accused. "Only here, where suddenly it's okay to like me?"

Harry pulled his hand free, tucking both of his into his pockets. Louis pursed his lips. Yes, he guessed he deserved that.

Louis met his accusing gaze and licked his lips.

"I liked you in London, too. Like," he added afterwards with a little frown of confusion.

Harry shook his head, green eyes dark with anger and something else. Something that made Louis wish they weren't on a tow path about to get dinner.

"And was I going to be involved in this decision about what we are?" He narrowed his eyes and Louis knew they would get to this, he just expected it to come first.

He did hang his head then, running a hand through his quiffed hair which was by now losing its edge since he'd slept on it, been wetted by a water pistol and had Harry's hands in it when they'd kissed.

"You're right," he accepted with a nod, taking a breath and looking up. "I should have asked..."

"Talked about it!" Harry said hotly, not making a full sentence since his words were bursting out of him. "After telling me so many times we couldn't...you couldn't...and then just blurting it out to that girl!" He gestured down the path where the fans had receded into the night.

"Can we talk about it now?" Louis wondered.

"No!" Harry shouted, taking deep, gulping breaths because fuck. Louis had just called him his boyfriend and he was not okay. He was not okay at all.

He could live in a silly fantasy world before that, pretend that he and Louis could be something but now, now Louis made his impending heartbreak very real. They would be boyfriends until either of them had to go and then it would all come crashing down.

Louis swallowed, his heart thrashing, his face paling.

"No, we can't talk about it?" Louis wondered.

"She's going to tell everyone, Lou!" He sighed, still gesturing wildly. "Fuck, I'm gonna be the guy that took you to Paris and then had my heart broken when you get fed up..."

Louis frowned, sharp and tight.

"I won't get fed up," he arched, his defences drawing.

Harry's hands worked into his hair, he was wide-eyed and freaking out. Louis had no idea why. Apart from maybe the fact he'd mentioned having his heart broken and that was crazy because well, Harry couldn't like Louis enough to have his heart broken by him, could he?

He figured drastic times called for drastic measures. 

Harry was muttering something about him having 'no idea' and being a 'total moron' as Louis walked the few feet between them and banded his arms right around the taller man, pulling him tight to his body. He didn't wait for Harry's confused, slightly open-mouthed shock to wear off before he kissed him, having to get on his tip-toes to reach. He pulled back after a long, harsh press of his mouth to Harry's.

Harry was still frowning at him, still breathless, but a little more disorientated than before, a little softer around the edges. When Louis went to step back, Harry's hands clutched at his waist, fingers clinging to his t-shirt under his jacket to keep him there.

"Okay, maybe we should talk about it," Harry murmured.

Louis cupped his cheek and kissed him again, gentler this time, slower and with the ease of someone who had all the time in the world to worship Harry's mouth. He'd meant what he'd said about not rushing anything. He never wanted Harry to feel like he'd been short-changed on boyfriends because he didn't have time to enjoy him.

The tell-tale click of shutters warned Louis they had company. Paparazzi may be banned in the city but this was Fashion Week and they stalked the dark streets to find models falling drunk out of clubs. Louis took Harry's hand and marched them along the promenade, bee-lining into the small restaurant Harry had earmarked for them to eat at.

He quickly tucked them away in a booth at the back; watching Harry put on his hat as they settled.

"I'm sorry," Louis said then, genuine in his apology.

Harry lip curled, just a little in the corner.

"I don't know why I freaked out," he admitted huskily.

"I do," Louis conceded. "Because I've been a dick."

Harry flicked him a look.

"Mais avez-vous dire que vous avez dit? Suis-je vraiment votre petit ami?"

Louis blinked.

"Easier in French, see," he said, although he had no idea what Harry had said to him.

Harry smiled wryly.

"Oui," he nodded. "And I asked if you meant it," he added gently.

They ordered a mixture of finger-food to share, sipping biere as their adrenaline slowed and their heart-rates returned to normal.

Harry liked that they could do this, could walk around topics, talk about them or not but still have each other's company.

Louis scraped at the label on his biere bottle with his thumbnail, pausing before he looked right at Harry. He needed to be certain in this moment, no half-gestures and fake promises.

"Yes, I meant it," he said.

Harry sipped at his bottle.

"Why now?" He wondered.

"It was never about being with anyone else," Louis said. "And I realised that I don't want you to be with anyone else," he added.

Harry regarded him with a confused look. Louis didn't really blame the guy since he'd acted like a moron up until now. Maybe now, too, he mused.

"Well, will you?" Louis wondered. "Be my boyfriend? Because if not I can chase that girl down and tell her I got it wrong and you know, it would make total sense because who the fuck would want to be my boyfriend after the way I've acted and today is just another example of that and-fuck-I'm such an idiot-"

"Okay."

The word interrupted Louis' self-indulgent beating-up of himself. His eyes darted to Harry's wondering if he'd misheard.

"Oh," Louis blinked, letting out a relieved breath. "Why?" He asked right after.

Harry laughed and wiped his mouth after another swig of biere.

"Jesus, Louis..." he teased, leaning back as their food was delivered.

Harry let Louis tuck in first, liking the weight he'd gained since they'd become friends-boyfriends?- and liking even more getting to show him these things, the French food, the little places to go that no-one else knew about.

He didn't mind that their picture would probably in the paper tomorrow, the fan they'd met probably telling everyone she knew about their status. He really didn't. But he did mind Louis doubting himself, the way he clearly was. And Harry couldn't deny Louis had been awful some of the time, but he was also Louis. A guy he'd come to care very much about and could care about a lot more now they were officially dating.

"I like kissing you," Harry said finally, slightly randomly, but in direct reply to Louis' question as to why he wanted to be his boyfriend.

Louis swallowed his mouthful, licked his fingertips free of food. Harry grabbed his wrist before he could finish, kissing his other fingers. He let his desire-blown pupils meet Louis' widened eyes.

"I guess that's a good a reason as any," Louis murmured, taking his hands back into his lap.

"Dessert?" Harry arched a brow.

Louis' gaze flicked to Harry's collar-bones, visible under the neck of his t-shirt, covered with swallows.

"Sure," he nodded, distracted.

Harry's toe nudged his under the table, his chin resting into his hand as he propped his elbow on the table. His smile was devilish. Louis wondered how he stayed single, even in his line of work he was irresistible, entirely beguiling and utterly divine. He probably had no right claiming him as his own.

"Or we can go?" Harry offered lowly.

Louis checked the front of the restaurant. One photographer still remained. He wouldn't get much of a shot unless Louis' burgeoning arousal was captured. Knowing his luck, it probably would be...Still, Harry was making eyes at him and he barely had the will to resist him normally, let alone with this new territory they were venturing into.

Commitment.

It didn't scare him in the way it scared most. Louis just found it so hard to understand how Harry could be happy with even a little bit of him, as he'd said that time. But he had to give them both the chance to try, he guessed. He owed it to his lonely heart and unloved body to try.

"We can get ice-cream from the hotel lobby," Louis offered, not wanting to deprive Harry of his favoured dessert.

Harry grinned and slid out of the booth, slipping his jacket on. Louis headed out first, turning back to grasp Harry's hand as they came into the night.

"Une photo, s'il vous plait?" The lone pap asked.

Louis nodded, about to release Harry's hand to save him from the intrusion, but Harry did something extraordinary- he leaned into his side, tipping his head onto Louis' shoulder with a huge, dimpled grin on his face.

"Print that, you bastards," Harry muttered as they walked away, pulling Louis into his side with an arm around his shoulders.

//

When Harry had purchased the small tub of Ben & Jerry's from the lobby vending machine; he didn't expect to be eating it from Louis' skin. Or in actual fact, for Louis to be eating it from his.

He'd gotten a fair amount of licking in, consuming his ice-cream from Louis' belly, a soft and luscious place it had taken some time to coax him away from but Louis had been pretty insistent.

Harry hadn't expected things to escalate quite so quickly but he was on his front, Louis between his thighs and licking at his hole, cold cream trickling into him and being lapped out with a hot, rough tongue.

He cried out, digging his elbow into the mattress, curling his body off the bed as if to push his backside up, needing more than Louis was giving him. Truth be told, he would let Louis fuck him tonight if the other man wanted, but he could sense Louis was still taking it slow in that regard.

Even if he was tonguing him with expert skill that Harry didn't dare ask where he'd gotten it.

"Fuck, Lou!" He gasped, rutting against the sheets to try and relieve some of the painful arousal he was sporting although he didn't know how a bed sheet was going to make this okay at all.

He wasn't sure anything could make it okay, unless-

"Unngh," he pitched forward as Louis' hand slipped between his body and the mattress, taking him into a tight hold.

He could feel Louis pressed behind him, naked and hard since they'd got as far as undressing and falling on the bed with their sweet treats and the ice-cream was all but forgotten as Harry thrust into Louis' hand, so, so grateful for the touch he could only whimper out his thanks, breathless and mindless with pleasure.

He buried his face into the crook of his arm, fucking into Louis' hand as Louis licked at him, not being shy or hesitant in his ministrations. The man knew what he was doing and Harry felt his climax peaking way before Louis was even near to being done.

"I can't-" he panted. "I'm there, oh god...Lou, oh, fuck..."

It was Louis' tongue shooting right inside him and filling him up that pushed him over, his thumb slipping over his head as he'd stroked, mostly letting Harry do the work with his hand. Harry wriggled around in the sheets, trying to get front-up to see something, anything that could help him understand what just happened.

Louis gently rolled him over, still between his thighs. He smiled, big and wide and happy. Harry groaned, pulling him in for a hug.

"We need lube so I can use fingers next time," Louis considered breathily into Harry's neck.

It must have been an interesting place to be trapped because he began kissing there, making Harry's body ping with little peaks of pleasure, like the aftershock to an earthquake. He writhed a little with a husky whimper, clutching Louis close to try and stop his kisses.

Louis chuckled into his neck.

"Okay, bad boy, I get it," he settled on Harry's body with a smile.

Harry could feel the heated press of Louis' erection, still unfinished. He shifted, leaning up, laying Louis gently back against the mattress. Louis cupped his cheek in silent question. Harry didn't say anything, merely curled down the bed and kissed him, right where he needed it most.

His kiss may have involved the remaining ice-cream and loud cries from Louis' lips. It may have included Louis hands in his hair in the best way possible and every inch of Louis' hot thickness in his mouth, pressing against his cheek. It may have also featured Louis coming hard and thick in Harry's throat, his body spent and his pleasure peaked.

Louis honestly looked stunned when Harry shunted back up the bed to hold him.

"Yeah...you're good at that," Louis offered breathlessly. 

Harry nuzzled into his throat, a smile stretching his mouth.

"Definitely need lube," Louis decided, kissing Harry's hair.

"Boyfriend," Harry mumbled, husky and deep from taking Louis' load. Louis began to congratulate himself for securing that little deal because-fuck-he couldn't let Harry do that with any other guy, that was for sure.

"Boyfriend," Louis said back, in case Harry was waiting for it. Apparently he was because he fell asleep then, soft and messy and in love.

//

 

Their last day in Paris started by waking up together in bed. For the first time, they actually stayed in bed together, too. They ordered room service, tussled under the covers and played snap side by side, curled against the mattress.

The only reason they had to get up was to do Harry's night shoot. They took a late lunch at a pretty cafe Harry had tugged Louis into, a little bed-messed but passable for public. Just.

Of course, their picture made it into the paper. They both looked at the image of them kissing by the river, glancing at each other in momentary nervousness.

Are you okay with it? They both seemed to ask, in the same look.

"Have to say, can tell you're on tiptoes," Harry smirked, speaking first.

Louis folded the paper and pushed it away, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever."

"You know, it's okay that you're not as tall as me," Harry assured sweetly.

Louis squinted, folding his arms.

"Better be," he mused.

"I like wrapping you up," Harry offered, all mush.

Louis couldn't help the crinkle in his eyes as he smiled.

"Maybe I like being wrapped up," he posed. "Maybe," he added, just to be smug.

"So maybe I need a bigger boyfriend," Harry considered. "To wrap me up."  
Louis punched him in the arm, gaining a giggle from Harry who swiped his fringe out of his eyes as it fell into his face.

"Size is not important," Harry said then. "It's what you do with it..."

Louis pursed his lips and arched his brow, giving Harry a good idea of what Louis wanted to do with him. Harry smirked at him, tugging a scarf out of his back jeans pocket to wind into his curls.

"Wonder if Perrie will make me up today," Louis mused. "What's this night shoot about?" He added.

Harry leaned back in his seat, sipping his tea, tucking into his sandwich when it arrived.

"There's this graffiti park down by the basketball courts," Harry explained. "Quite edgy and punk...they want five of the top models to be punked-up and shot there..."

"Zayn?" Louis checked.

Harry shook his head.

"He's gone to America for a goth-fest. Perrie can do it, or didn't you notice her lip ring and pink hair streaks," he grinned.

Louis nodded.

"I feel like I'm a honorary punk now," he mused.

"Your pictures are selling well," Harry added. "Did Liam tell you?"

Louis smirked.

"Liam doesn't tell me much of anything to be honest." Louis mused.

Harry frowned. "That's not good..."

Louis sighed.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I should even release a third album," he admitted. "There's so much pressure for it to be good, to be at the top of the game, to tour, to sell as many records if not more than before..."

Harry swallowed, lacing his fingers through Louis' that lay on the table.

"You should set your own targets...don't worry about expectations," he advised gently.

"You know how it is, though," Louis tossed his head. 

"I do," Harry admitted. 

He was always under pressure to be edgier, to think of something new, something original. But the good thing about his job was that he wasn't watched, constantly, wasn't judged at every turn. If someone didn't like his work, if it didn't sell as well as expected, he could pick himself up and move onto the next assignment pretty easily. Louis didn't have that option. If his songs didn't sell then he'd get criticised in the press, his career would falter.

"You should do what you want to do, Louis," Harry encouraged. "Forget the other voices in your head..."

Louis looked at him. 

"I thought about taking a year out," he admitted with a sigh. "I'd still be writing but I'd also be living...not something I get to do constantly on tour and doing rounds of interviews."

"They wouldn't let you?" Harry guessed of Louis' management.

"Told me to write what I could in six months. That the process to record and promote would make up the other six. They didn't seem to get that I didn't want to be working for those six months."

Harry rubbed his thumb along Louis' his face creasing in sympathy.

"They can't force you to write songs."

Louis smirked. "They know I can."

"But you don't want to," Harry argued, softly. "You should have the final choice in what happens to your album."

Louis lifted a brow, as if suddenly realising how much he was performing to other people's standards.

"I should get a new deal," he said.

Harry licked his lips, not wanting to push Louis in a direction he might not be ready to go.

"I know someone," he ventured then. "Just to talk to about this," he added as Louis' gaze snapped to him. Just in case Louis thought he was plotting his downfall or something.

"Yeah?"

Harry nodded. "A guy named Simon. He saw me at karaoke one night and tried to get me to sign a deal but I knew my voice was never going to be good enough plus I can't write songs and what's the point in singing if you can't sing about your life?"

Louis smiled at him gently.

"Anyway, you can call him if you want, he'll give you some good advice."

Louis nodded, letting a breath out, almost relieved for an out. An escape from his pressured situation.

"That'd be good...thanks," Louis appreciated.

"What was your plan, for your year off?" Harry wondered, pouring himself another tea, making Louis one too, stirring in milk and sugar as Louis watched on fondly.

"To meet someone," Louis offered.

Harry's gaze flicked up. Seems Louis had the same idea he did.

"Really? With all the opposition you put up to this?" Harry mused, passing a finger between them to signify their union.

Louis blinked, looking down.

"I never said it was a good plan..."

Harry smiled, sipping his tea. Louis did the same, their other hands still on the table, fingers laced together.

"That was my plan too," Harry offered then. "To find a reason to stay in one place for a while."

Louis swallowed.

"Have you found it?" He asked. "A reason?"

Harry bit at his lip, casting shy eyes to Louis'.

"I think so, but-I'm not sure if it's too much too soon," he ventured.

Louis frowned.

"For me?"

Harry nodded.

Louis slipped his feet forward so that his ankles rested inside Harry's. He unlaced their fingers to reach across the table, tipping Harry's chin up, thumb brushing over his lips. Harry blinked lazily, lips parting lightly and Louis sucked in a breath, wanting to push his thumb between them, wanting to push a lot more between them if he was honest.

"It's got to be your choice," Louis murmured when he drew his hand back into his lap; a group of ladies having been shown to the table next to theirs, restricting their PDA somewhat. "I'm not going to be the guy that asks you to stay home or travel with me at the expense of your own career..."

Harry leaned forward, pushing his teacup gently to the side as he made room for his elbows.

"But don't you get it?" Harry's eyes narrowed. "You asking that means that you want that person by your side, always. It isn't a sacrifice if you're giving up work to be with the person you love," Harry described.

Louis didn't know that they were in love, at least not yet. If he was, would he give up singing to travel the world with Harry, sit in on his shoots and kiss melon out of his mouth? He didn't like the way his subconscious yelled 'yes' and the way his body pinged with happy agreement. Fuck. He couldn't be in love, he'd know about it, surely?

"You're right," Louis agreed with the sentiment, at least.

Harry sat back, seemingly pleased Louis had seen his side of things. Louis decided they shouldn't be talking about such heavy things with only a few limited hours left in Paris. Tonight after the shoot they might get an hour or so to enjoy the moonlight before they had to catch their late flight home, but they still had a couple of hours before the shoot started.

"Come on," Louis stood up, energised.

Harry cast him a bemused look as if to say 'where are you taking us, you don't know Paris', but Louis ignored it, paying the bill and leading Harry out by the hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Louis took him to the fair.

There was a small collection of fair rides and stalls down by the river which had been put on to entertain guests of the Fashion shows, but mostly everyone was inside watching said shows while Louis and Harry queued for the Ferris Wheel.

It was pretty high up when Louis began to get nervous, but they weren't anywhere near the top. Harry shot him a bemused look.

"Lou, are you afraid of heights?" Harry checked.

Louis smiled wanly with a tight nod.

"Then why the fuck did you bring us on here?" He spurted out laughter.

Louis lifted his brows, pursing his lips.

"Thought it was romantic," he mused. "My mistake..."

Harry curled in toward him, bringing his face towards his own. He dipped his chin, looking him right in the eye.

"You surprise me, Louis Tomlinson," he said.

Louis hoped that was a good thing.

"Yeah?" He asked, hopeful.

Harry kissed him then, slow and luxurious, no hurry over the movement of his lips, the way he pulled Louis in closer bit by bit, until Louis' legs overlapped his own and then he could lean forward so that Louis was laid back and he could wrap his arms right around him and push between Louis' thighs, kissing down into his neck, to his collar-bones which were indeed, to die for.

Louis breathed out sharply as Harry's lips met his skin, fevering him with his touch, with the gentle bite of his teeth the way he sucked bruises into his skin, sweet and tender. Louis didn't even notice they were at the very top of the wheel until he opened his eyes, no cars above them, none below. He tensed, grasping Harry's arms tightly with his hands.

"Fuck," he panted, breathless from desire and fear, too.

Harry pulled away but kept Louis wrapped in his arms. He kissed him, once.

"I'll save you," he promised.

"Well, you are the man," Louis derided.

Harry nodded proudly.

"I am, aren't I?"

Louis frowned at him, licking his lips distractedly, still wound tight like a spring.

"Don't try and kiss me again to distract me from this god-awful ride," Louis warned. "I'm not closing my eyes until we hit the ground..."

"Shame," Harry lamented with a low voice and a protruding lower lip, leaning towards Louis' ear to murmur. "Thought a blow might take your mind off it..."

Louis groaned and pressed the heel of his hand against his hard body, pushing down that enthusiasm.

"No!" He told himself more than Harry. "No public sex, okay?"

Harry arched a brow and leaned back, sitting up and folding his arms as though nothing had just happened. As though he hadn't just offered to suck Louis off to take his mind of his fear of heights. Louis was left laying on his back, carefully sliding up to a sitting position, closing his eyes so he couldn't see out of the car.

"Thought you weren't shutting your eyes," Harry leaned over to chide.

"Shut up," Louis grasped for his hand blindly and Harry gave it to him, letting Louis combine their fingers and place their joined hands on his thigh.

Louis began breathing in and out very carefully while Harry nipped at his ear, making Louis shiver.

"I hate you, Styles okay? Got that?" Louis sighed tightly.

Harry grinned, wrapping him up in both his arms, pulling him into his chest, more kisses pressed to his temple.

"I love that you did this for me," Harry appreciated.

"Just remember it," Louis clipped crossly. "Any time you ever doubt me, just think of this, okay?"

Harry kissed his jaw, across to his lower lip. He kissed his lower lip, sucking at it gently. Louis' lips parted, maybe to seek attention for his unloved top lip, maybe to gain a proper kiss, he wasn't sure. Harry gave him both. They were surely a strange sight, Louis with his eyes screwed shut kissing Harry back with a rigid body.

When they got off the ride, Harry rewarded him with an arm slung around his shoulders.

"Hey, love-birds!" Came a camp, shrill voice.

"Baby," Harry hugged his friend warmly. "Thought you'd be inside..."

Baby shook his head. "Got my own boy-toy to show off," he winked. "Can't find him though..." He looked around.

Harry pulled Louis back under his arm, kissing his temple.

"It's my last night here," Harry told his friend. "Guess I'll see you next year, huh?"

Baby smiled knowingly with a wink.

"Anniversary city," he said.

Harry smiled bashfully. 

"Maybe," he offered. 

"Definitely," Louis said, looking up to his beau.

Harry nodded, not quite believing him, Louis could tell. He would work on that.

"So, Louis," Baby turned his attention to the singer. "Lots of love songs on the new album I hope?"

Louis smirked. "Every single one of them," he promised.

Harry made an amused noise, tugging him closer into his side if that were possible. Louis slipped his arm around Harry's waist to balance.

"You two," Baby tipped his chin down. "I need a picture," he decided.

"Why does everyone say that?" Harry mused.

"You don't see it?" His friend mused. "How good you look together, non?"

Harry posed with an eye-roll while Louis behaved perfectly and gave his best love-up grin. Baby took Louis' phone when he asked for another for himself and Harry couldn't help his soft look of fondness at Louis as Baby snapped them, wrapped up in each other.

"It's a good one," Baby passed Louis the phone back to check.

Louis' grin almost lit up the whole city. He set it as his screensaver.

"Lemme see then," Harry pouted, leaning across.

"Nope," Louis tucked his phone away.

Harry looked to Baby who just held his hands up. "His is better than mine," he excused, kissing Harry on each cheek in parting.

Louis was glad he didn't have to witness any more mouth to mouth contact between the two.

"Why can't I see the picture?" Harry sulked as Louis led them toward a stall to play a shooting game.

"Because then you might actually realise how absolutely whipped I am and it'll cause the whole solar system to collapse if that happens," Louis quipped, quickly detaching from Harry's side to pay for a go on the game.

Harry stood with a confused frown.

"Wait-you're not whipped," Harry argued. 

Louis arched a brow to the contrary, aiming for the targets and missing too many to win. He paid for another turn. By turn three he was sure he could win this. The targets all fell down and a victory song played as lights danced about.

"Which one?" The stall owner pointed to the rack of large stuffed toys on offer.

"That one," Louis pointed to a cute white bear he was pretty certain Harry would love.

He clutched it to his chest, face out as he turned.

"Whipped," he passed the toy to a delighted Harry.

He grinned widely and pulled Louis in for a messy kiss, wrapping him close as Louis chuckled, crushed between Harry and the bear.

"Boo-bear," Harry named the toy fondly, rubbing his cheek into his fur.

Louis' eyes darkened slightly and he licked his lips. The arm he'd wrapped around his back tightened, his hand pressing into the curve before his butt.

Harry didn't need the words, he knew the question. Kiss me? He could hardly say no.

He leaned in, wrapped in Louis Louis Louis and almost forgetting he had a job to do, still.

"We have to go, soon," he pressed his forehead to Louis', sadly.

"Not without candy-floss," Louis stipulated, getting Harry high on sugar for the drive to the shoot location.

//

The graffiti park was cold and pretty scary. Louis sat in the car for most of it, only venturing out to bring Harry and the team hot drinks from the cafe situated a few metres down the road.

Harry had accepted his offerings with chaste kisses, distracted by his work.

Louis was thankful then, when the shoot was deemed a success and they headed back to the hotel to pack their bags ready for their flight.

They got a taxi from the hotel, booked in together and sank into their seats with a sigh as boarding was called. It was Harry that curled to his right to nose into Louis' neck. Louis slipped his arm around his waist, kissing his curls.

"Back to good old London," Louis mused.

"The magic always ends," Harry sighed.

Louis didn't like that Harry seemed to think their fun would end the moment they landed. As far as Louis was concerned, Paris was only the start of something, only the tip of what they could be together.

He wanted to plan a thousand dates, take Harry to every restaurant in town and every show. But for right now, he needed to think of something a little more doable. Something special to make Harry trust Louis on this, that he wasn't letting go this time. Something meaningful that Harry would absolutely love. And he needed to think of it, plan it and execute it before they parted ways.

He rolled his eyes. Good luck, Tommo.

//

 

They came out of the airport hand in hand, tugging their luggage behind them. They got into the same taxi at 3am, tired and barely awake.

"Stay at mine," Harry said as the driver made his way through London at twilight.

Louis looked over. He hadn't gotten far with his surprise-planning because Harry had fallen asleep on his shoulder. All the text messages in the world couldn't make the impossible happen. Still, he'd planned to invite Harry to breakfast, giving them only a few hours apart before they next saw each other.

"Yeah?" he said, double checking.

Harry nodded, hiding a yawn in the back of his hand, his eyes narrow and slitted. He was trying not to nod off. Louis smiled. Awesome. He could definitely work something in while Harry was asleep, a surprise for when he woke up.

"Okay," Louis agreed, looking out of the window, fighting off his own fatigue. If he could just stay a wake a bit longer...

Of course, Harry's flat was full of unpacked boxes and looked more like a student accommodation than that of a professional- and very successful- photographer. It reminded Louis that they were just two young guys when all was said and done, never mind the level of their careers. Just two guys, falling in love.

He must be really tired to not fight that thought he mused.

Harry had insisted Louis share his bed but luckily for Louis, Harry curled up in all his clothes- coat included- and fell fast asleep. He waited ten minutes before sneaking out.

//

Harry woke up alone.

He lifted his head, looked about the room, didn't find Louis in sight. He shucked of yesterday's clothes and slipped on some tracksuit bottoms to go in search of his boyfriend before he showered.

In fact he kind of hoped to have Louis in tow when he did shower.

He didn't have to go far. Louis was snoring face-down on the sofa, one arm dangling, the other tucked up under his cheek as a sort-of pillow.

Harry tilted his head, wondering why he'd come out here to sleep awkwardly on his sofa rather than in his bed and he panicked momentarily that he'd been the one snoring.

And then it caught his eye. A vase packed full with sunflowers, large and imposing on his kitchen table. He wandered over, biting his lip as the table came into full view.

Paper bags from the bakery down the road were carefully curled up, housing what Harry could already smell was delicious pastries. He looked over to the couch, biting his knuckle to stop himself jumping up and down and squealing like a twelve year old girl at a 5SOS concert.

Louis was recreating France in his flat, or at least trying to. Although London was awake all night, Louis had done pretty well to get flowers and pastries, all ready for Harry to wake up to. No wonder he'd crashed on the sofa.

Harry turned the oven on, planning to warm up their breakfast fare, still in the hope to catch a shower with his lovely house-guest if he could get the chance.

"Lou...Louis..." Harry stirred him gently, watching his eyes blink open sleepily.

Louis squinted, all sass first thing.

"What time is it?" He husked, precariously shifting from his rather uncomfortable sleeping position.

"Eight," Harry supplied.

Louis groaned and sank back down.

"Need more sleep..." 

Harry cupped his arm.

"But I want to kiss you..."

Louis' eye opened.

"You do?" He mused,

Harry nodded. "You got me flowers. And croissants."

Louis smiled then, slow and remembering.

"Oh, yeah...I did..."

Harry smiled, too. "So can I kiss you?"

Louis rolled back.

"Only if you get on this couch to do it," Louis bargained.

Harry happily squished into the space, his sofa rather smaller than Louis' king-size version. He wrapped him close, nuzzling his nose.

"Louis, it's beautiful, thank you," he murmured.

Louis blinked sleepily, pointing his mouth in the right direction where Harry gently sucked his lips.

"Shower with me?" He asked.

Louis hid in his chest.

"No, too early," he whined.

"Come on...please, Lou? Please?" He begged.

Louis sighed, throwing his head back.

"Al-right," he made a great show of getting up even though Harry held a hand to help him, he ignored it and stomped toward the shower, quickly undressing to get under the sluice of water Harry set to medium.

It was crowded once Harry got in, but his soft lips kind of made up for it, especially the way he fanned his hands at Louis' lower back stood behind him, kissing his neck as those exploring fingers gently stroked his belly.

Louis shrunk away from his touch.

"Fat belly," he panted in explanation.

"Not fat...sexy," Harry assured, slipping to his knees, kissing the 'Kiss Me' tattoo on Louis' lower spine, both his dimples and each ass-cheek before turning him, lathing kisses upon said belly.

"Haz," Louis objected to his attention, pushing his straining dick toward Harry's lips, more because he was there than anything else.

"Later," Harry husked, getting back to his feet, washing Louis and then himself, taking his time shampooing Louis' hair which Louis watched with moody eyes, like some kind of cartoon grouchy bird.

Harry only laughed softly at him, kissed his angry mouth and let his fingers splay over his belly. Louis folded his arms to make a point.

Harry kissed his palms until he gave up being mad, running his hands down Harry's wet torso to feel his lovely soft skin and sexy hard muscle.

"Your hair's straight," Louis realised then, looking up.

Harry smiled, his dimples more prevalent without his mass of hair to hide them.

"Can we have breakfast?" Harry asked, a million miles from the professional photographer who had to order people around. No this Harry was entirely different and Louis couldn't help the softening inside him each time Harry smiled.

"Sure, knock yourself out," Louis derided, drying off quickly, borrowing some of Harry's far-too-big trackies and a t-shirt. Harry slipped his trackies back on, no top, no boxers.

Louis pretended not to know that.

Harry put the pastries in the oven, happily made tea and poured juice, sat beside Louis and pressed his knee into his as they waited for the two minutes to pass until their pastries were warm. Honestly, after all the grouch Louis had showcased being woken up, he wouldn't have missed this moment for anything. Harry bit into the warm choc-au-pain and made the most obscene noise known to man.

"How did you know about that place?" Harry asked to a blank Louis.

"Hm?" Louis came-to.

"The bakery...it's my favourite. How did you know?" Harry repeated.

It wasn't exactly a direct route from his flat, either.

Louis licked his lips. 

"Might've asked Zayn," he mumbled.

Harry opened his mouth in surprise.

"You didn't!"

Louis shrugged. "Needed help so I asked."

Harry kissed him full on the lips.

"I guess he told you about sunflowers, too?" He mused.

Louis frowned. "No?"

Harry looked to him, intrigued. "Then why did you pick them?"

"Reminded me of you, big and happy," Louis offered.

Harry smirked. "Thanks, I think..."

"Are they your favourite?" Louis asked hopefully.

Harry cheeks warmed.

"I used to grow them when I was little. My mum always said I was a sunny child. Been a favourite of mine ever since..."

Louis' bad mood had lifted. He grinned, pleased with himself.

Harry stood to put their dirty crockery in the sink.

"So, we should sleep in, huh?" He called over his shoulder.

He startled as Louis' hands slipped onto his hips, where his two fern-leaf tattoos sat. Louis' fingers seemed to be tracing the leaves.

"Oh," Harry swallowed, leaning back instinctively.

Louis turned him gently, pulling him close to kiss him, pressing him into the counter when his balance gave up on him halfway through. Harry's hands went straight to his behind, enjoying the mass, groaning with approval as he squeezed. It didn't take long for his hands to venture beneath Louis' waistband, pressing the tip of his finger suggestively against his hole which Louis appreciated by biting into Harry's lower lip claimingly.

"Haz, yes," he panted, brushing his hips against him, between his thighs where their arousals rubbed together, strong and hard.

"I have lube," Harry assured huskily, kissing down Louis' neck to his collar-bones, thumbing his nipples and letting his big hands explore his chest while Louis palmed Harry through the front of his tracksuit bottoms.

Harry keened into his touch, bit at his neck; wondered which of them would move this to the bedroom already...

It turned out to be a moot point. Just as Louis rocked tightly into Harry thighs, just as Harry sucked another mark into his neck; an insistent ringing of the doorbell sounded and it took Harry several moments to realise the noise wasn't a far-off alarm of fire-engine making its way through town, but it was his doorbell, going off over and over and-

"Okay!" He yelled, annoyed. "I'm coming, alright!"

Louis dipped his head and let out a breath of amused air.

"Or not," he muttered.

Harry frowned, cupping his face to bring it up. He kissed Louis mouth, once, very tenderly.

"I'll meet you in the bedroom?" He suggested.

He was sort-of glad for the interruption to at least get them both in the room he wanted to spend the rest of the day in.

Louis nodded and turned, receiving a swat on his behind which he paused at, gritted his teeth but decided not to do anything about as he made his way through the flat.

Harry adjusted himself in his trousers and opened the door with a swift tug.

"Hey!" Niall grinned, happy and bright.

Harry frowned.

"I thought you weren't coming round anymore..."

Niall's face fell.

"What?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever, what is it?"

"Is Lou here?" Niall poked his head through the space between Harry's shoulder and the doorframe.

Harry stepped across.

"Maybe, why?"

Niall made a face. 

"Come on, a week in Paris, I haven't seen my bestie in forever and after our last chat like this?" Niall mused.

"We got back at 3am," Harry shared. "We're sleeping in. Were." He added.

"You're wet," Niall accused. "Which means you've showered and I smell food which means you've had breakfast-"

"So then basically you're just walking in on us fucking," Harry finished for him.

Niall's eyes went wide.

"Oh shit," he gasped.

Harry lifted his brows.

"I'm gone," Niall turned and Harry felt a pang of guilt.

"Niall, wait," he called, grabbing his sleeve. "Do you want to see Louis before you go?"

Niall's lips split into a grin.

"No, I think I'll leave you to it. Get him to call me, yeah?" The Irish lad said before he disappeared.

Harry turned back for the bedroom, hastening to get back to Louis. He whooshed open the door, eyes falling instantly to the bed, wondering what would be greeting him.

He blinked.

Louis was face-down again, knee tipped up, ass beautifully showcased where the material of his trousers stretched across his behind. He was snoring again, only quietly. 

Harry had taken too, too long at the door. Damn Niall. But then...

Louis looked so peaceful. And he'd had even less sleep than Harry. And he'd been so grouchy this morning when Harry had woken him, just to kiss him and shower with him. Harry guessed he owed it to him not to wake him up just to get his wicked way.

He sighed, spooning behind his boyfriend, nuzzling into his neck.

"Hm, who was it?" Louis mumbled sleepily.

"Your best friend," Harry supplied honestly. "You should call him, apparently..."

"How does Niall-?" Louis began.

Harry kissed his neck.

"Never mind," he soothed. "Go back to sleep..."

"But we're making out," Louis protested, trying to move if it weren't for Harry's lovely heavy body keeping him in place.

"No, we're sleeping," Harry cuddled him to prove his point.

"Oh. Okay," Louis breathed out, settling back down. "Love you, yeah?"

Harry froze, not sure he'd heard that, not sure if Louis was delirious with sleep or lack of it.

"Yeah," he breathed, not even sure Louis heard his reply.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy
> 
> Ang

Harry did get his wicked way with Louis after all. 

Once they'd slept for a few hours more, they'd woken up folding together for slow, aching kisses and it had soon turned into hot, desperate touches. Harry made love to him, knelt between his thighs as Louis faced the mattress, taking him deep and slow, just how Harry liked it. It had been a defining moment for them, coming undone in each other's arms, their attraction realised, their emotions made physical.

Harry had spooned the life out of Louis after that, placing soft kisses to his shoulders and every other inch of skin he could reach, often with Louis wriggling in his arms. Louis had pouted when Harry stopped giving them, though.

They laid together a while, just enjoying the intimacy of being together.

It was around four o'clock that Louis finally decided he should go home. He left Harry with some long, pressing kisses, lots of hugs and promises to text the moment he stepped foot inside his flat. It really was the end of their Parisian adventure but Louis was glad of the time to think up more surprises.

It was when he was in the taxi that he pulled his phone out.

What work you got on next week?

His phone buzzed not a few seconds later. He smiled.

Something in Manchester Wednesday. Shoot Friday. Got asked to do a music video so got a meeting for that.

When can I see you?

Now?

Louis smirked at Harry's reply. they both had families, both had friends to see. Louis flicked off a quick text to Niall while he thought of a reply for Harry.

How about one night apart? I'll meet you for breakfast tomorrow, I have a meeting with Liam at 11.

A whole night :(

I take it back, you're the whipped one not me.

You got me flowers :p

Never again, HUGE mistake ;)

But Loo-ee...

Stop whining.

You dont bring me flowers, you don't sing me love songs...

Shut up.

You hardly talk to me anymore when you come through the door at the end of the day. I remember when...

You want love-songs?

...you couldn't wait to love me, used to hate to leave me...

Louis rolled his eyes. Seriously, Harry was such a sap.

You light up my life like nobody else. There, that do you?

That's your band's song :(

So? I wrote it :D

:(

Honestly Louis was beginning to wonder just what kind of boyfriend he'd picked himself up.

Under the covers feels so right. Your skin against mine. I promise I'll keep you safe tonight.

He waited patiently for Harry's reply.

:) :) :)

Louis sighed, relaxing back into his seat. His phone buzzed and he smiled at the incoming call ID.

"Nialler," he answered, a smile on his face.

//

Louis had seen the front page of the tabloid paper before his meeting with Liam but after his breakfast with Harry. It seemed a bit late for the British press to be speculating about himself and Harry especially since it had been tweeted about them being together quite heavily, with hash tags developing for their sightings.

#LarryStylinson Spotted in Paris, romantic lunch @ La Rose cafe"  
#Lourry spotted-- looking loved up :)  
#HarryTomlinson SIGHTED IN PARIS- THE CITY OF LOVE <3

Still, what the press hoped to make out of Louis' first public relationship, he wasn't sure. Liam had been pretty low-key about the whole thing telling him to ignore the press the way he always told Louis to ignore the press, even when they'd printed that picture of him wearing make-up and making him out to be a drag-queen.

Louis knew better than to let the papers get to him, but he couldn't help worry for Harry. He pulled out his phone.

Hope you told your parents about us, we're front page news.

Louis didn't get a reply for the rest of the day and he'd hoped to make dinner plans with his beau so he dialled his number while he sorted his laundry, trying to make his flat liveable while he struggled with writing songs.

"Heyy," Harry's warm, welcome voice filled the line.

"Hi," Louis smiled at his greeting. "Did you see my text?"

"Hmm," Harry agreed. "After my mother called..."

Louis winced.

"Sorry..."

"Why?" Harry mused. "I've had lots of boyfriends she knows nothing about..."

"Not all on the front page," Louis sighed.

"No, she's extra proud I've bagged a famous boy toy," he teased.

Louis made a face that Harry wouldn't see.

"What did she say?"

"That eye make-up suits you," Harry quipped.

Louis rolled his eyes.

"What did she really say?"

"That you should take me out tonight?"

Louis gave up trying.

"Which is the reason for my call," he assured.

"Can't, I'm busy," Harry lied with a giggle.

Louis loved his playfulness.

"Really, who with?" He enquired.

"Some singer-dude. He's front page news apparently..."

"And he managed to pull you?" Louis awed.

Harry shrugged on the other end of the line. "I happen to be a catch in some circles..."

"Hm, who knew?"

"Has your mum seen?" Harry asked then.

Louis twisted his lips.

"Yeah. I'm about to call her now..."

"Will she like me do you think?" Harry wondered.

Louis laughed. "Who doesn't?"

"You," Harry pointed out.

"No, I-" Louis choked himself from saying the words, words that almost came dancing right out of his mouth with no business of being on his tongue at all.

No, I love you.

FUCK.

"Lou, are you okay? Did you swallow a fly?" Harry checked.

"Choked," he strangled out, putting it on. "I'm okay."

"Call me after you've spoken to your mum?" Harry said then.

Louis smiled. "I wont need to. I'll tell you later what she said. Word for word," he promised.

"What time and where?" Harry asked of their date.

Louis hadn't even thought that far ahead.

"Hum, what do you fancy?"

"You, in your bed, as soon as possible?" Harry offered.

Louis sucked in air. Well, yeah...that was one possibility...

"Can we go to Kettners in Soho? It's kinda cool there..." Harry said in lieu of Louis' silence.

"Pick you up?" Louis offered.

"I'll get you," Harry said.

"Okay, but I'm paying," Louis said back.

"See you at eight," Harry clicked off and Louis picked up the cordless home phone to ring his mum.

He had a feeling this might take a while.

//

Harry was making his way through Tagliatelle while Louis was enjoying Pork Belly. They had some kind of weird-named cocktails based on Oscar Wilde and the place was buzzing. In all honesty, it wasn't really what Louis was hoping for.

He'd kind of wanted somewhere quiet tonight, somewhere that reminded him of Paris, still not wanting to let the memory of that go. But he couldn't deny the vibrancy of the place was somewhat of a pick-me-up.

"So, who's first?" Harry asked and Louis knew he meant which one of them would be revealing their parents' opinions first.

"You, since you wouldn't tell me earlier," Louis voted.

Harry shrugged.

"She wants to meet you. As does my dad. Especially my dad," Harry smiled.

Louis swallowed.

"Will I get the 'don't hurt my son' speech?" He wondered.

Harry beamed. "Pretty much."

Louis nodded, trying to take comfort from Harry's ease with that statement.

"I guess that's only fair..."

"They're okay, really," Harry added softly, sipping his drink. "I don't think they're too scary..."

"Did they mind, that it was front page news?" Louis asked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You should hear them. Dating a bloody celebrity I am, whole village is talking about it."

Louis smiled hopefully.

"That's...good?"

"They think it'll increase my profile. I told them I'm doing fine on work offers without my boyfriend helping me..."

Louis nodded. 

"So, when are we going?" 

Harry shrugged. "Whenever. No rush."

"They're okay with that?" He checked.

Harry smiled. "Can't say I usually take boys home before the six month mark..."

Louis felt light headed all of a sudden. He had Harry had only known each other a few weeks, had fallen quickly into a relationship because of events in Paris. They still had a lot of getting to know each other to do.

"Is it okay?" Louis frowned. "I mean, this happened kind of fast but-"

Harry leaned across the table and kissed his cheek.

"It's okay," he promised.

Right...good. Louis felt slightly queasy as he lay his knife and fork on his empty plate.

"What about you?" Harry asked, still working through his pasta.

"My mum is in love with you," Louis supplied, disgustedly. 

"She hasn't met me," Harry winked.

"I don't think she needs to," Louis mused. "I was expecting a lecture for not telling her about you but she just started the call with 'Oh my god, isn't he gorgeous?' and it went downhill from there..."

"Gorgeous?" Harry smirked, lifting a smug brow. "Good woman."

"She couldn't understand how on earth I managed to snag you," Louis pressed his lips in and widened his eyes for comic effect.

"Did you tell her it was your big d-"

"No," Louis cut him off. "Strangely, I didn't. I thought you loved me for my winning charm, not my body..."

Harry blinked. That was an opening if there ever was one, but no. It was too soon.

"So, Mrs. Tomlinson wants to adopt me?" Harry smiled.

Louis shook his head.

"Straight swap, me for you. You think your mum will mind?"

"Doubt it," Harry assured. "She likes your make-up."

"I'm nothing without Perrie," Louis reminded.

"Zayn'll help you out...if you decided...you know..." Harry shrugged awkwardly.

Really the make up thing was for Paris. Louis couldn't imagine his next album sleeve featuring eyeshadow and mascara. Still, he might not even have a next album sleeve if he didn't write something and soon.

"You go away Wednesday?" Louis changed topic easily.

Harry smiled.

"Tomorrow night. Going up by train, I have to shoot this Babe in the Wood thing," he shared.

"Can I see you before you go?" He queried.

Harry gave him a funny look. 

"Was hoping I'd spend the night with you..." he admitted.

Louis made a mock-pained face.

"I dunno, mate, really not sure about that..."

Harry threw a pea at him.

"I hate you," he announced.

Louis gave him a wide, bland smile. 

"Remember that later when I'm rocking your socks off..."

Harry blurted out a laugh, loud and abrupt, ducking his forehead into the back of his hand.

"Smooth, Tomlinson," he grinned.

Louis lifted an arched brow.

"I'd like to think so..."

"Would you like to see the dessert menu?" The waitress asked as she took their empty plates.

Harry dimpled. Louis nodded, ever the man of the table.

"Is Zayn going with you tomorrow?" Louis questioned of Harry's friend.

Harry nodded. 

"Yeah he got back yesterday," he shared. "Be like old times."

"What shoot you got Friday?" 

"Something for the Scottish Tourist board. I'm going straight from Manchester Thursday morning to make it..."

"What?" Louis o'd his mouth, lowering his menu.

Harry flicked him a look.

"I thought I'd get to see you Thursday," Louis pouted.

"You have songs to write," Harry reminded. "Much easier when I'm not around."

Louis missed him, though. Had maybe missed him every day he didn't see him since the day they met. But he couldn't tell him that. It was too soon.

"Yeah, I suppose I can crack on. When do you get back?" He asked, more quietly.

"Saturday lunchtime. Why don't we have dinner at mine?" Harry added. "I'll cook..."

"Naked?" Louis bargained.

Harry smirked.

"Well, if that's a thing for you..."

"You naked is definitely a thing for me," Louis nodded.

Harry blinked at his sudden vocality of his attraction, his curly lashes lowering over his hooded eyes. Was Louis trying to leave before Harry got his dessert? It was maybe the fastest Harry had eaten.

//

Their limbs entwined that night, bodies pressed and rubbed and joined. It was Louis' turn to make love to Harry, Harry's legs around his waist as he eased into him, seeing every flicker of emotion on his face as he sank into him, sometimes slow and easy, sometimes deeper and intense. Whatever it was, it wasn't hard. Harry was happy about that. You never really knew a guy until you slept with him and even if Harry's gentility was evident, he hadn't been quite sure of Louis' until now. Until Louis brought him to an unbelievable peak, bringing them both crashing down together, releasing hard and heavy in unison. He held him afterwards too, like Harry had when he'd been on top.

Louis was always so stunned, though, so in awe of their sex. It was only their second time but Harry knew Louis wasn't a stranger to the pleasures of sex so although he felt the same inexplicable feeling every time he and Louis came together, he still didn't fully understand Louis' shock at their compatibility. Surely it was obvious they would combust between the sheets.

"Christ..." Louis muttered out, kissing Harry's hair, maybe his fifth 'Christ' of the evening.

"Stop taking the lord's name in vain," Harry nudged his thigh with the knee that was between them as Harry curled into Louis' smaller form.

Louis kissed his forehead.

"Wow," he voted for instead.

Harry grinned.

"You sound like it's your first time," he teased.

Louis hugged him tighter. "It is. With you." He added.

Harry nodded, rubbing his cheek into Louis' chest, kissing there.

"I like your chest," he said then, randomly.

"Thanks," Louis mused.

"That day on the shoot, you said it wasn't your best feature..."

Louis blinked. "It's not."

"Tis," Harry kissed it again, bringing his hand up to run across his skin.

Louis sucked in a breath, surprised at Harry's words.

"Thank you," he said again, softly.

Harry leaned up a little, began kissing him all over said chest.

"Hmm," Harry hummed, letting his lips fall to Louis' soft swell of belly.

"Shut up, you can't possibly like that," Louis' eyes crinkled with his extra-large grin as Harry proved him wrong by kissing that all over, too.

"Don't go to Manchester," Louis begged breathlessly, his hands now thickly rooted in Harry's hair.

Harry kissed lower, reviving some interest in his groin. His dick responded quickly to Harry's loving touch.

"I have to..anyway, you're the one that can survive without me. I'm just being needy when I say things like that," Harry took Louis into his mouth as Louis groaned, tugging at Harry's thigh.

Harry looked up from his curled position.

"Straddle me," Louis husked and Harry quickly complied. 

It was the best 69 he'd ever had.

//

Manchester was grey. 

Luckily for Harry, he had Zayn to brighten up the long train journey and they played travel connect 4 several times over on the way. The set for the shoot was quite elaborate but Harry hadn't been involved in that part, he was just here to take photos.

He began setting up, turning as a vaguely familiar voice sounded down the corridor.

"I can't wait to see him..." the excited tones of a male was saying and Harry knew exactly who it was before he even came through the door.

"Peter?" Harry said right before the small brunette stepped into the room.

"Hazza-bear!" Peter grinned, walking into Harry's wide hug, a big smile on his handsome face.

"Long time no see!" Harry exclaimed. 

He and Peter had done the same Photography master-class, both had very different visions but often their work was compared because they had the same edge. The two or three times they'd worked together they'd produced some of the most talked about work of their time.

"You look great!" Peter complimented.

Harry leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"And you, handsome devil..."

"Didn't know you were working on this," Peter winked, indicating he did know.

"Last minute gig," Harry clucked his tongue. "Gotta take what you can get..."

"Same old Haz," Peter grinned.

Harry smiled back.

"Hey, why don't we catch up after the shoot, me you and Zayno, few beers?" Harry suggested.

Zayn saluted to Peter, less familiar with the other photographer but happy to join whatever beer-drinking was going on.

"Sounds good," Peter nodded.

//

And so they were three.

"Has Harry told you about his new boyfriend yet?" Zayn asked in his slow, Bradford accent.

"No," Peter smiled interestedly at Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I got accused of talking about him all the way here," he derided.

"That's because you did, mate," Zayn winked.

Harry blinked patiently.

"I'm dating a guy called Louis, we met on a shoot and we spent a few days in Paris and it's new so....yeah," Harry sighed.

"Louis Tomlinson," Zayn inserted. "The singer..."

Harry squinted at him.

"He's just Louis to me," he assured.

"Wow, he's a good looking guy," Peter commended. "Good catch..."

Harry swallowed. Well, he supposed from everyone else's point of view that would be the case. He still knew Louis' vulnerability though and it still worried him as to when they'd break. It wasn't a case of if for him, he knew deep down that nothing this good could last forever.

"He really likes you," Zayn slapped his shoulder gently, as if seeing Harry's doubt.

"Yeah," Harry blushed a little. "Feeling's mutual..."

"This calls for another beer..." Peter got up to order.

//

When Harry had trouble getting up the next day, it had a lot to do with the beers he'd consumed the night before. He got on his train to Scotland and passed out for the ride, texting Louis between naps.

It wasn't until Friday morning when he made his next set that he saw the paper lying on the side, Louis' name in small writing.

Is Louis Tomlinson's new boyfriend already cheating?

Harry frowned, pulling out his phone.

Lou, have you seen this crap in the paper today?

He flipped to page 13 where there was a small photograph of him with his arm around Peter's shoulders, the photo cut off to where he also had his arm around Zayn. Funny that. He flicked his eyes over the words, his stomach turning with each sentence.

Rumoured new beau of Louis Tomlinson, 26, is photographer to the stars, Harry Styles, 24 but we caught him getting cosy with an old boyfriend in Manchester- several miles from Louis' home town of the big city. Does this mark heart-ache for our favourite British crooner? Expect a few sad songs on his keenly-awaited third album...

 

"What a load of shit," Harry spat.

"What's up, mate?" Zayn grasped his shoulder.

"Read this," Harry pushed the paper toward Zayn. 

Zayn laughed.

"You were legless, you wouldn't have got anywhere," he teased.

Harry frowned.

"Louis will have seen this..." he sighed.

"Call him," Zayn said.

Harry flicked his eyes to the models waiting to be shot.

"Don't worry about them, I'll go flirt to cover for you..." Zayn promised.

"Alright," Harry agreed tightly, stalking out of the room.

//

"Lou...it's Harry...look just call me, yeah? That stupid article, it's bullshit okay? Zayn was on my other side, Peter is an old mate of mine and nothing happened...I miss you...call me."

Louis ended his voicemail message and looked back at the pictures online. There was one of Harry with his head turned into Peter's neck, his dimples grooving his cheeks. Harry was fond of this guy, Louis could tell. He had to admit, the photos had shocked him. Not just because it meant Harry was being followed now, but because he honestly didn't know he'd feel this bad about Harry having fun without him.

Really, he had no right to complain about anything Harry did, it had taken him a while to get with the program and he'd rushed asking Harry to be his boyfriend. But he was. And Louis wanted to be the only person that made Harry happy, however stupid that sounded.

He wasn't quite used to feeling jealous, not something he'd particularly had to contend with until he'd met Harry. And it was evident the tall, curly-haired guy was loved by everyone he met but still, Louis wanted to be the only person whose neck Harry nuzzled into. Wanted to own his dimpled smiles and his big body and everything else he had to offer.

"Yeah...it's me again...why haven't you called? I need to talk to you...I promise you, nothing happened. Are you mad? You can tell me, okay? Please, just call me..."

Louis had probably left it too long to call Harry back since he had a second voicemail around lunchtime. Friday was not a good day for him, he tried to focus on song words and purging his unjustified jealousy but nothing was going to help. Other than talking to Harry.

Even Niall called him and asked him what was going on once he saw the article. He also told Louis to stop reverting to his dick-tendencies and to remember the guy he'd become since dating Harry. Louis didn't even take it as an insult. He accepted Harry made him a better person, forced him to face up to the truth. But Harry wasn't here and Louis missed him. He laid on his sofa, squeezing a pillow and staring at the TV.

When his phone tinkled around eight o'clock, he was surprised to open a picture-message from Zayn of all people. It was a photo of Harry, asleep across a train seat sideways, clutching a big white fluffy bear. His bear. The bear he'd won for him. And Harry had taken it all the bloody way to Manchester and bloody Scotland and slept with it. Boo-bear got Harry at night while Louis got doubt and insecurity.

He tried to think of something to type, frowned as his mind blanked and he gave up trying. There was a truth lodged in his chest that he couldn't hide away from and it scared him more than anything else in his life. He knew why he was jealous, it was obvious really. There was more about Harry that he liked than he didn't and he treasured their friendship more than anything, a friendship that went further and meant Louis could kiss his beautiful lips and stroke his amazing hair and hold his sexy body.

And he would lose that friendship- and the more it promised- unless he picked up the phone. But what was he meant to say? I've known you a month and I love you? Because that was really the stuff of ridiculousness and love shouldn't even come into this. Not really. It was too soon.

Louis choked out an unamused laugh. Try telling his heart that! Harry had infiltrated his scared, scared heart and practical, sensible mind and had turned everything topsy turvy.

Because he did love Harry, really, really. He was probably completely in love with him. But they hadn't had the honeymoon period yet and so Louis didn't know how it had happened. Harry was his someone and it wasn't okay at all. Not in the slightest. Because Louis had to share him knowing that. Knowing Harry was his, he had to share him,. And Harry might be okay with just a little bit of Louis but Louis was pretty sure he wasn't okay with just a little bit of Harry. He wanted him all. Needed him all. And he couldn't ask Harry to do that, it was unfair and idiotic.

But that was how Louis felt. And how was he supposed to put that into words exactly?

//

Are you still coming for dinner?

Harry's text bleeped through at eight am, waking Louis up. He guessed Harry had just boarded his train. He sighed, stretching, rolling onto his back with his phone.

Wouldn't miss it.

Why haven't you called?

Boy, if Louis had an answer to that he'd be a whole lot happier.

Because I'm being a dick.

Yeah, you are...

He loved how Harry was so honest. So honest but still liked him, despite his flaws. How was that?

Can we talk about this later?

Louis waited patiently for a reply.

Don't be late.

//

Louis had had his hair trimmed, asked the stylist to put it in a quiff for him, put on his best jeans and t-shirt with plimsolls and a jacket, toting wine and some French chocolates he'd procured at a specialist chocolate shop.

He knocked on Harry's door.

Harry opened it, tall and gorgeous, his face marred with worry.

"Hi," he breathed.

Louis bit his lip. "Missed you," he said as a greeting.

Harry sucked in a breath, stepped forward and pulled Louis into a hug. Louis went willingly, quickly pushing his wine and chocolates onto the side so he had both arms fully wrapped around Harry's form.

"I thought you weren't talking to me," Harry husked.

"I wasn't," Louis admitted with a frown. 

Harry pulled away, devastation on his face.

"You got my voicemails?" He checked.

Louis nodded.

Well, there wasn't much more Harry could do to assure him, really. He waited for Louis' next words.

"Can I come in?" Louis said then, still searching for the words he couldn't quite find.

Harry tugged him through to the living room, a lovely smell wafting in from he kitchen.

"I made coq-au-vin," Harry narrated. "It's French but I hope you don't mind that I did mash with it..."

Louis sank into the sofa beside him, turning sideways, one leg folded to support him.

"I'd eat whatever you made, to be honest," he admitted.

Harry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was sucking his lower lip nervously.

And Louis knew there were many, many words he could say right now, probably thousands that covered the way he felt, why he did what he did, why he was so damn jealous in the first place. But really, there were only three that mattered. And it was too soon. Too, too soon. His mind kept yelling that while his heart throbbed to hear them aloud, to finally be free of the burden, the weight of holding those words in. Because if he felt it, then there wasn't really anything wrong with saying it, was there? It might explain a lot more than his usual line of 'I'm an idiot' because in hindsight that didn't cut it at all for excuses. Didn't even come close. He couldn't understand how he'd gotten away with that for so long.

He realised he'd drifted into a mind-fog as he felt Harry grasp his hand, squeezing.

"Lou?" He whispered, looking close to tears.

Louis could do that he realised, could make him cry. He decided to speak quickly before Harry really did cry and then he'd feel even more of a shit than he did right now.

"See, what it all boils down to is that-when I saw those pictures it wasn't even...I trust you, it's not like I don't, I didn't think you'd-"

Louis swallowed, frowning hard. He had written a hundred songs and words had never been this hard to push through his lips.

"I think I like you too much," he finally managed.

Not the three he wanted, but it was a start. Harry understandably looked confused. Louis pushed on.

"The way you were nuzzling into that guy's neck? It got to me...in a way I didn't expect it to and I'm not gonna be that guy, remember? The one that holds you back...but I was stupidly, ridiculously jealous and that can only mean one thing, really," he mused, sucking in air. "That I like you too much." He added in summary.

Harry laced their fingers together, cupped his cheek and brought his timid gaze to his smoky green one.

"I like you too much, too," Harry husked, eyes flicking between each of Louis'.

Louis' breath hitched. "You do?"

"Why do think I was so fucking drunk in the first place?" he wondered.

Louis shrugged. "Lad's night."

"They made me talk about you... I was holding off since Zayn said I talked about you the whole train ride up which isn't possible it's four hours, I can't even talk about myself for four hours, let alone you-" Harry paused, took a breath. "But when I talked about you I realised that I missed you and it had been like, less than a day since I last saw you and that's just crazy, right? That's insane?" He beseeched of Louis.

"Crazy," Louis echoed. "Insane," He added to comfort Harry even though he gravitated toward him, pressing a kiss into his mouth even though Harry hadn't really finished speaking.

Harry didn't seem to have much mind to push him away to finish. He cupped Louis' neck and tilted his face, deepening the kiss further. Louis pulled away to hear the rest of his words.

"I just kept drinking until I didn't miss you anymore," Harry added quietly, as though admitting as much was an awful crime.

Louis took a moment to remember how to breathe and then he broke into a smile. A big, unlimited, face-breaking smile. His eyes almost closed with how happy he was.

"Harry, I just want to keep you," Louis said, giddy with happiness. "All to myself..."

Harry smiled crookedly at Louis' words, pulling him close.

"I like you way, way too much, okay?" Harry whispered. 

Louis shifted, straddling Harry's thighs to get as close to him as they could both manage.

"Like you too," he murmured, kissing Harry's ear, across his cheek, down his jaw. "A lot. A lot, okay?"

Harry nodded, pulling Louis close for a mouth to mouth kiss, breaking only when his kitchen timer went off.

He smiled slowly.

"Still want to try my dinner?" He asked.

Louis shuffled away, getting up. 

"More than anything," he assured.

Harry took his hand and towed him to kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to apologise for the lack of distinction between text messages in the last chapter- for some reason my formatting is all shot on here!!
> 
> Ang
> 
> p.s all songs are mine except Savage Garden

chapter 9

 

There was a lot Louis could do that he'd never realised before. Like write songs while being spooned. 

Despite being wrapped in Harry's arms- and that being the best feeling ever- he'd woken up silly-happy and itching to write. 

If the words don't come  
Then forgive me while I say  
I like you a lot because baby I do  
But we both know I'm saying that I love you  
Because baby I do  
Only my tongue won't work  
And the words are hiding inside  
My scared scared heart and even scareder mind

"#if you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon#"

Louis froze as Harry stirred behind him, realising he'd sung that out loud again.

He waited to see if he'd wake and when he didn't, he kept scribbling. 

I want to fly the blue sky  
With you in my arms  
And if you ever doubt this I can make it right  
With simple simple words trapped in my mind  
But the question is will you mind?  
Don't walk away I'll fight inside  
I'll break them free I won't let them hide. 

if you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon

I couldn't take it  
If you left my side  
My empty heart  
My empty mind  
Take it, take it  
My love inside  
My tongue can't say it  
But I hope you don't mind

If you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon

[Chorus to fade]

"Lou, what're you doing? " Harry's sleep husked voice sounded as Louis finished his last line.

"Writing," Louis shared.

Harry pressed into his back, peeking over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" 

Louis shut his notebook.

"Yeah, mush mostly. .."

Harry pressed his smile into Louis' neck. 

"Good, want everyone to know you're whipped, " he teased.

Louis wriggled on the bed, facing Harry, his book clutched in his hand still.

Harry was soft with sleep, happy and gorgeous like always. Louis owed it to himself to kiss him.

Harry made sure his notebook was tossed to the floor before he rolled on top of him, reminding Louis just how good they were together. 

//

Harry spent the next week working from home, getting his shots ready from the shoots he'd done the last week.

He worked from his laptop at Louis' table while Louis slouched on the sofa, writing. Harry couldn't help getting distracted when Louis picked up his guitar to strum, tried several times to resist moving from the table into his lap. He failed a few; not that Louis seemed to mind.

They managed to go out with Niall and Zayn one night; spent two nights apart when Harry went home to see his mum and dad, assuring Louis that he didn't need to go with him this time.

Harry was looking at job opportunities as he curled into his parent's sofa. He'd been there two hours when his phone buzzed.

He glanced down.

Louis.

He grinned, picking up.

"Hey," he greeted, warm and happy.

"Just checking you got there okay," Louis lied.

Harry smirked. "I texted you when I got off the train..."

"Well, the taxi might have crashed," Louis reasoned.

"Might have," Harry nodded. "Didn't..."

"How's your mum?" Louis asked.

"Hugged me for an hour. Let me go so I can read the job paper..."

"Seen anything yet?" Louis wondered.

"Nah, I only just opened it before you rang..."

Louis nodded, his wordless pause loud.

"Are you sure you want to stay in London?" He asked then.

"Yes," Harry answered, no hesitation.

"We need to talk about it, about what we'll do when things get mad..."

Harry smiled, pursing his lips.

"We'll work it out," he soothed.

Louis sighed and Harry wondered what brought this on.

"I've got a small gig," Louis said then.

"Hey, that's great," Harry enthused.

"Just a little intimate gathering, some fans who did a project to raise money for my favourite charity..."

"When is it?" Harry asked.

"Monday night, will you be back by then?"

"I'll make sure of it," he promised.

Louis smiled.

"I'd love it if you could be there."

"I will be," Harry assured.

"I'm calling Simon later, to have a chat," Louis added.

"Good," Harry encouraged. "I'm glad..."

Louis paused again and Harry wasn't sure why.

"Is your mum there?" Louis asked.

Harry looked around, he could hear her pottering in the kitchen,

"Mum!" He shouted. "Louis wants to say hello!"

"Ha-" Louis began in protest, but it was too late, he wasn't listening.

"Don't get up off the sofa," Anne chided gently, wiping her hands on her apron and taking the phone.

"Hello?" She greeted uncertainly.

"Mrs. Styles," Louis said, swallowing hard. "I'm Louis...I just wanted to...well, speak to you," he offered.

Louis could kill Harry for putting him on the spot like this.

"Harry's told us all about you," she smiled, dipping out of Harry's range as he tried to pinch her. "How are you keeping?"

"Good, yeah," he answered. "Is Harry behaving himself?"

"Never," she assured with a fond twinkle for her son. "Harry says you're busy writing?"

"Trying," Louis agreed. "This album isn't coming easy..."

"Well, don't force it," she counselled gently. "It'll come..."

"Can you ring my manager and tell him that?" Louis chuckled.

"No use burning out," she added caringly.

"True," Louis nodded, considering her words.

"I should leave you to it. Thanks for saying hi," she added.

"My pleasure," he assured. "I hope I'll get to meet you soon..."

Anne ruffled Harry's hair as he stared at her, wondering what was being said.

"We're coming down to London for Harry's exhibition so we'll see you then," she assured.

Harry widened his eyes and waved his hands, too late to stop his mum spilling the beans. Beans he was going to spill when he got back; so he and Louis could crack champagne and drink it off each other's bodies maybe.

He took his phone back with an arched brow and narrowed eyes.

"Hi," he greeted Louis lowly.

"You have an exhibition?" Louis said, predictably.

Harry sighed, writhing awkwardly.

"It's the stuff I don't publish," he explained. "Sort of private. Like the images that aren't good enough for print but that are my favourites. Not many people get to see it, I invite like 100 people along, no cameras, no media..."

"Oh," Louis sucked in a breath, wondering if any of his photos would feature. "Sounds nice."

"I was going to tell you when I got back...wanted to pop champagne with you..." He mumbled.

"Okay, we will," Louis assured.

Harry grinned, curling into the cushions.

"Miss you, you know..."

"Is Boo-bear keeping you company?" Louis checked.

"I can't believe Zayn outed me like that," Harry sighed.

"Well, is he?" Louis pushed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed of the soft toy he'd already sat on his old bed.

"Lucky Boo-bear," Louis said then, soft and wistful.

"I'll see you tomorrow night?" Harry checked.

"Text me?" Louis begged, not wanting to end their call.

In the background, he heard a booming male voice.

"Who the bloody hell is Harry Tomlinson?" Des, Harry's dad wondered loudly.

Harry giggled.

"My dad's just seen today's paper, I better go and explain..."

Louis' breath caught in his throat, words stuck there.

"Call me, if he wants to say hello," he said quickly.

Harry's giggled 'okay' made it obvious that wasn't going to happen. When the line clicked dead, Louis licked his lips and furrowed his brow.

"Love you," he said softly into the quiet room.

//

Harry rolled off the sofa, loping into the kitchen, leaning on his dad's shoulder since he was shorter than him.

His dad had the paper open at the page where an article sat on Harry and Louis' burgeoning relationship.

"What, are you married?" Des mused gruffly.

Harry smiled.

"No..."

"They can't use your surname?" He asked pertinently.

"I don't mind," Harry shrugged, slipping into one of the wooden seats in the kitchen.

Des' gaze lingered on the picture printed there, one of the many fan photos they had taken in Paris. Luckily in London, they hadn't been caught yet.

"He looks an alright lad," his dad assessed.

Harry nodded. "He is."

"Oh, he's lovely, Des, I spoke to him on the phone..."

"Why did I miss this?" Des snapped his head up.

Harry bit his lower lip, trying to contain his loved-up smile.

"He said he'd talk to you, if you wanted..."

"I want," Des nodded.

Harry re-dialled Louis' number, rolling his eyes at his dad.

"Hey, miss me already?" Louis answered.

"My dad wants to say hi," Harry greeted.

"Oh," Louis said, sucking in air. "Yeah, of course..."

Harry handed his phone to his dad.

"So you're this Louis?" Des asked right off.

Harry tilted his head chidingly.

"I am," Louis agreed, smiling, hoping it came out in his voice. "It's great to talk to you, Mr. Styles..."

"They're calling him Harry Tomlinson," Des said and it took Louis a moment to work out what he meant. Of course, that was still going on.

"I try not to pay too much attention to the tabloids," Louis offered. 

"So you sing for a living?" Des asked next and Harry made a bemused face.

What the hell was his dad going on about?

"Yep...doing pretty well for myself," Louis shared. "Think I can take care of Harry, at least..."

Des flicked Harry a look. His son was winding his arms and legs together awkwardly. He liked this Louis, that much was evident.

"Well, that's something," Des mused.

"I-I'll give him everything I've got," Louis said then, wanting to prove to Harry's father that he was a worthy boyfriend.

"Fame and money don't mean much," Des clipped, to Harry's shock.

He o'd his mouth and whispered 'dad!' in a desperate voice.

"They mean nothing," Louis agreed. "Harry means a lot to me." He added.

Des nodded.

"He means a lot to us, too," he replied and Harry curled up in the chair, feet on the edge of the seat as he melted.

"I wont hurt him, Mr. Styles," Louis said then, hoping he could keep that promise.

"Alright," Des accepted his words. "You'll do," he added teasingly.

Louis laughed, relieved. "I'm glad you think so..."

"Best get back to that singing malarkey you do," Des suggested.

"Yes, sir," Louis agreed.

Des handed the phone back to Harry, whose eyes followed his dad around the kitchen.

"'M so sorry," he murmured softly, quietly.

"It's fine," Louis assured bravely. Truthfully, he felt withered under Des' harsh tones.

"'S not," Harry mused. "But thank you for talking to him..."

"It's what a boyfriend should do right?" Louis teased.

"Yeah," Harry smiled. 

"Glad I could be of service..."

"See you tomorrow," Harry re-affirmed.

"Can't wait," Louis grinned and Harry could hear it in his voice.

He ended the call and stared at his dad.

"Dad, why were you so hard on him?" Harry demanded then.

Des shrugged.

"Just making sure he's good enough for my boy..."

"It's not like you to be like this," Harry frowned.

Des regarded him, passing him a cup of tea he'd just made for them all.

"I've not seen you like this before," he admitted.

Harry frowned, sipping his drink.

"Like what?"

"In love?" Des supplied, amused he had to say it when it was evident to all and sundry.

"'M not-I'm not in love," he denied moodily.

Anne turned and gave him a gentle smile.

"It's okay to be in love, sweetie..."

"I know," Harry snapped. "I'm just not. We're new. It's too soon."

The words were empty, held no conviction. His parents glanced at each other but refrained from speaking.

"It's too soon," Harry said again and he wondered how many times he had to tell his heart that for it to be true.

//

The club Louis was playing his gig at was low-lit and intimate.

Harry hung at the back, folded arms as he leaned on a wall, trying to hide his tall, lean form.

A few of Louis' fans recognised him and came over for a photo, surprising Harry with their support. He felt a little less like Louis Tomlinson's boyfriend and a little more like Louis' boyfriend Harry.

Louis had been nervous before he'd taken to stage. Harry had held him in strong, comforting arms and petted him, assuring him he would be brilliant.

They'd spent last night enjoying each other, every which way, an indulgent making-up for time for the two days Harry had been away. They'd also enjoyed the champagne Louis promised. 

Harry could still remember the way Louis had filled him, nice and tight, his thrusts just perfect to bring him to his high. Louis had lovely hips and strong thighs for that. Harry wondered if his love-making was as good. He'd taken Louis from behind in the shower, splaying him against the glass. He was pretty sure from the noises Louis had made that he had enjoyed it. He certainly hadn't found words easy and Harry grinned in proud smugness for doing that.

Rendering Louis speechless.

He'd take it all back to not see the quiver in Louis' hands as he sat at his stool, guitar in his lap as he looked out on his small crowd.

He wasn't sure why Louis was so nervous, maybe it was the break from music, the fact he had no lights to hide the faces of his audience, the way he was right there in front of them, no security gates to protect him.

Harry pushed off the wall, circled the seats to come closer. Louis flicked him a look and Harry smiled, making an 'o' sign with finger and thumb. Louis nodded. OK. He was OK. Harry wasn't convinced.

"So," Louis fixed his mic into place. "You guys have raised an amazing amount of money for Make A Wish Foundation and you just keep doing it," he said to his fans. "And the fact you do it because of me is pretty humbling," he mused.

Some claps and hollers sounded out. One of them may have come from Harry.

"As a thank you, I'm playing a few songs tonight and you guys are going to be the first hear a song I've just finished for the new album," he added.

Cheering broke out, some screams. Harry folded his arms and grinned proudly. That was his boy up there, making people scream.

Louis began strumming, sang a good portion of his current songs and took a break before singing a couple more. Harry hovered on the sidelines, waiting patiently for Louis' set to finish, wanting to hug him so badly now that his whole body ached for it.

He was sure this wasn't normal, this overwhelming feeling of wanting to protect someone but he couldn't do much about it other than hope he didn't smother Louis with his intensity.

"Okay, last song of the night..." Louis husked into the mic. "This is the new one, tell me what you think?" He asked, strumming into his guitar once more.

#If the words don't come  
Then forgive me while I say  
I like you a lot because baby I do  
But we both know I'm saying that I love you  
Because baby I do  
Only my tongue won't work  
And the words are hiding inside  
My scared, scared heart and even scareder mind

If you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon

I want to fly the blue sky  
With you in my arms  
And if you ever doubt this I can make it right  
With simple, simple words trapped in my mind  
But the question is will you mind?  
Don't walk away I'll fight inside  
I'll break them free I won't let them hide. 

If you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon

I couldn't take it  
If you left my side  
My empty heart  
My empty mind  
Take it, take it  
My love inside  
My tongue can't say it  
But I hope you don't mind

If you can forgive me this  
The words will come  
Don't ever doubt me  
You're never alone  
I love you, love you, love you  
But it's too much to say  
Too soon, yeah  
It's just too soon#

The room erupted into loud applause and cheers, reassuring Louis that his new song was good enough. He gave a surprised smile, waved to the crowd and let Liam lead him down off the stage to greet certain key figures from the fan-club.

Louis wondered if he'd taken too long to get to Harry, found him sitting on a vacated chair in the front row. He sat beside him, leaning into his arm.

"That took forever, sorry.."

Harry turned and wrapped him close, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Louis gladly held him back, though, tight and hard.

He twined their fingers when they pulled apart, heads close together. Harry even lifted his chin to kiss him, once, for a long sweet moment.

"Guess we should go?" Harry suggested.

Louis blinked. He'd not expected that. He'd expected to be asked about the song. Still, maybe it really was too soon and he'd just told Harry in front of a hundred people exactly how he felt and Harry didn't feel the same...or Harry didn't like how he'd done it behind his back again, without checking with him first.

In the car, his phone bleeped and he opened a picture message from Liam. It was a screen-shot of someone's twitter, the picture of he and Harry hugging, a hash tag underneath.

#TrueLove...Louis & Harry <3

He smiled, thankful for the discretion of his fan. He really didn't need this splashed all over the front pages. Or maybe he did. Once he'd spoken to Harry he'd know for sure.

They went back to Harry's place, since he tempted Louis with the promise of toasties and Harry loaded up the toastie-maker with cheese-filled bread while Louis borrowed some of his too-big clothes to change into.

Harry had a blue bandana wrapped up in his hair holding it back, his black jeans and a black shirt on for the formality of Louis' gig. Louis flicked his eyes down his grey marl trackies and white t-shirt, wishing he'd kept the tight grey trousers and white shirt on from just before.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Harry handed him a plate stacked with cheesy toasted sandwiches which he tried to covet, but Harry's big hands were too much for him to fight off.

"Heyy!" Harry complained when Louis snaffled the last one.

Louis chomped through half and offered him the rest. Harry dimpled and took it with a kiss to Louis' cheek.

"So," Louis turned on the sofa sideways, brushing his hands free of crumbs, then his top, then his lap. He tossed his head back, meeting Harry's questioning gaze. 

"We're not going to talk about it?" Louis asked.

Harry blinked. Louis knew Harry understood perfectly, the guy had never been an idiot and he was sure he wasn't about to start being one now.

"Talk about what?" He asked anyway, voice husky and strained.

"My song?" Louis suggested.

Harry looked away, to the coffee table, biting at his lip.

"Guessed you didn't have much to say," Harry mumbled.

Louis frowned. Actually he had a lot to say. A lot to say that should have already been said.

"So the thing is...The thing is-" he sucked in air. "The thing is that I love you," he finally said. Finally.

Louis' heart thumped in solid celebration, his blood whizzed around his veins in happy victory. Harry wasn't looking at him. He seemed to find his fingers very interesting though. Louis' heart stopped beating, started again erratically, a heavy thud to it that made his excited blood-rush turn backward in vain.

He shouldn't have got ahead of himself. He'd probably just ruined everything.

"Harry?" He begged, his voice breaking. "It's too soon, isn't it? I knew it.. too fucking soon, too fucking much, too bloody intense," he sighed.

Harry looked at him then, all eyes. All eyes and lips and hair. Harry had lovely hair. Had Louis ever told him?

"You have lovely hair," he said, just to be sure he had told him.

Harry smiled bemusedly, his lips quirking.

"Sorry," Louis licked his lips.

"You wrote a song about me," Harry said, as if still digesting this fact.

Louis nodded, sitting back a little.

"Yeah...is that okay?"

Harry's gaze shot to his.

"More than," he said quickly, brows furrowed.

"Then...are you okay?" Louis checked.

Harry frowned, thinking.

"Not sure," he admitted.

Louis felt like everything was slipping away, felt like what he'd thought was his best idea was fast becoming his worst.

"Did I fuck things up?" Louis ventured, pressing his hands together to stop them shaking.

Harry blinked, all confused green eyes and pale, beautiful face. Louis wanted to shake the words out of him, wanted to spank them out of his butt if need be.

"I love you too," Harry said then, biting his lip.

Louis closed his eyes, felt the warm wash of relief fill his veins.

"Thank fuck for that," he breathed, grabbing Harry against his body, kissing his hair.

Harry slipped his arms around Louis' waist, head ducked.

"Told my parents that I didn't," Harry mumbled into his chest. "That it was too soon..."

Louis sucked in a breath, shocked that Harry's thoughts matched his own so closely.

"It is," he mused. "Way, way too soon."

Harry nodded, clinging on. Louis kissed the top of his head again. Harry didn't seem much in the mood of making love tonight.

"Can I hold you?" Louis asked.

Might need you to hold me tonight  
Might need you to say it's alright  
Might need you to make the first stand  
Because tonight I'm finding it hard to be your man...

The song words swirled in Harry's head and made him smile. He burrowed his cheek into Louis' chest.

"Okay," he agreed and Louis shifted onto the sofa where Harry could curl against him; two bodies, wrapped together, thoughts buzzing quietly in the echo of the room.

Harry settled there, sleepy and-he didn't know what else. Stunned maybe. That was a good way to describe how he felt. Overwhelmed. And the way Louis was holding him he wondered of he ever planned on letting him go. He hoped not.

//

"Love, you really can't throw a ball can you?" Harry teased as Louis pitched the rugby-ball across the park toward him.

It was Wednesday. Neither of them had huge plans. Harry was getting his exhibition ready for the weekend and Louis was already planning his outfit to do Harry proud. He'd asked Harry if he'd wanted him to stay away so as not to switch the spotlight from Harry's work but Harry had told him not to be such a 'fucking idiot' and hugged him hard. Which had been nice.

Almost as nice as the way Louis had made love to Harry after their declarations. Almost as nice as the way Harry made love to him back. Almost as nice as every hour they spent together since then.

"Hey, I'm a great footballer," Louis boasted.

"We're not playing football," Harry called. 

Louis rolled his eyes, pelted the ball into Harry's chest.

"Oh, he has a throw!" Harry mocked.

"I'll have a bloody tackle as well if you don't shut up," Louis smiled wanly.

"Empty promises," Harry called, sighing for effect.

Louis strode across the pitch, muscled thighs pressing against his beige long-shorts, an Aztec-print vest on his upper half. Harry had gone for sweats and a tee, giggling breathlessly as he turned, starting to run away from Louis' advance.

"It was a joke!" He promised, tossing the ball back to try and put Louis off his stride but the smaller man just ignored it, starting up a run to catch Harry.

When he reached him, he banded his arms around his body at the elbows; pulling him down. Harry didn't do a lot to stop Louis crawling on top of him, messily kissing him. In fact, some might say Harry invited the move since his fingers threaded into Louis' hair and his hands worked down his neck to press fingertips into his collarbones.

Louis straddled him, pressing his wrists into the grass. Harry grinned up at him happily.

"Is this meant to be threatening?" He wondered.

Louis blinked.

"Can you at least pretend to fear me?" He posed.

Harry pursed his lips, a crooked grin breaking free with a chuckle. The action made his skin jiggle, his belly rasping against Louis' thighs. He blinked up at him with his curly lashes.

"I fear you," he said, low and husky.

Louis was biting back his smile.

"Good. Now, say I'm a great thrower..."

Harry bit his lip.

"Kiss me," he said.

Louis rolled his eyes.

"If I must..."

It was a long kiss. Louis felt Harry had deliberately asked for it only to disarm him because somehow Harry had turned them so that Louis was on his back and Harry leaning over him, a victorious smile on his lips. Louis couldn't hate him too much because being underneath Harry was almost as nice as being on top of him.

He wondered how long this freedom to be together could last.

"How's the job hunting going?" Louis asked, tucking back Harry's long curls.

Harry's lips twisted, he sat up with a sigh.

"Uh-oh," Louis flicked him a look.

Harry smiled wryly, pushing his hair back.

"I have a job in Chicago- two weeks of work," he shared. "I wasn't going to take it but it's a theatre production and I've not done that before. The music video I had the meeting about? I can do it while I'm there."

Louis nodded, sucking his lower lip.

"You think you might move into film, then?" He wondered.

Harry shrugged. "I guess I should look to freestyle for a magazine like Time," he mused.

"What do you want to do?" Louis asked.

Harry smiled, looking at him.

"Be with you," he admitted.

Louis smiled back, cupping his cheek.

"But otherwise..."

Harry shrugged. "I want to be in London. I want London to be home for us, for you to be able to come back to me, to us after your tours..."

Louis swallowed.

"When does the Chicago job start?"

"Next week. I'm going Sunday night," he shared.

Louis cleared his throat, sucked in a breath.

"I-Do you want a companion maybe? Someone to travel with?" He posed.

Harry kissed his mouth.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Wait, what was it you said before...that the asking is what makes a guy feel special?" Louis reminded.

Harry smirked. Shit, yeah. He had said that. How silly of him to forget. And Louis wanted to be asked, he realised. He'd hinted, but actually, he wanted Harry to want him there. And Harry did, of course he did but-

"What about your album?" He said.

Louis shrugged. "I've got a while yet."

"Will you come with me, then?" Harry asked, smiling hopefully.

Louis grinned, kissing him back.

"Thought you'd never ask."


	10. Chapter 10

Harry's exhibition was before the flight to Chicago.

He nervously blew air into his hands as the un-heated warehouse he was using for his gallery felt chilly as he waited for his guests to arrive.

Louis was coming with Niall, wanted to be the first through the doors but he decided to hang back to give Harry his moment in the spotlight. Harry wasn't sure he wanted Louis to see his most private work, yet. It was difficult, exposing his soul to the public this way, even if it was his hard-core fans that were attending.

"Hey, mate," Zayn's voice filled the cool space and Harry hugged him.

Zayn chuckled, pulling back.

"You nervous?" He teased. "Not like you..."

Harry shrugged.

"Louis hasn't seen my stuff...not really," he explained.

Zayn squeezed his shoulder.

"He'll love it," he assured.

"There's some of him," Harry admitted timidly.

"Oh," Zayn nodded, then a wicked smile curved his lips. "Nothing too exposing I hope..."

Harry rolled his eyes, surprised to find Baby and Perrie rushing though the doors to greet him.

"Hey!" He grabbed them both close, planting kisses on their cheeks.

"Zayn this is Baby and Perrie," Harry introduced.

"Alright," he lifted his chin, hands in pockets.

"Cheer up, pet," Perrie poked Zayn's chest.

Zayn smiled then, shyly.

"Shall we have a look around then, before the mob hits?" Zayn said.

"Lead the way, handsome," Baby winked at Harry as he followed Zayn through the large gallery of his work.

Harry chewed on his lips, glancing toward the door. He heard Niall before he saw him.

"Proper culture, eh?" Niall swaggered in, arms wide.

Harry walked across to enfold him in his larger ones.

"Hi, Niall," he greeted, looking at Louis behind him.

Louis looked stunning. He was wearing black suit pants- nicely tight-a fitted black shirt rolled at the biceps and a grey tie. He had brogues on his feet. His hair was shorter, ruffled sexily. Harry tilted his head, knowing he'd gotten a hair-cut especially.

When Louis blinked, Harry noted the muted hint of grey on his lids, the darkened lashes hitting his cheeks. Perrie had done his make-up. He let go of Niall to wrap Louis close, kissing him regardless of whoever else wanted to greet him on their way in.

"Jesus, get a room," Niall huffed, looking around.

He spotted Zayn in the far back and didn't even bother to try and separate Harry and Louis from their kiss to tell them he was heading off. He just rolled his eyes and went.

"Fuck, you look amazing," Harry breathed as he finally pulled away.

Louis was clinging to him slightly.

"Uh..thanks...yeah, wanted to look nice for your thing..."

Harry sucked his lip. He was in all-black- jeans and shirt, chosen in advance, shown to Louis several days ago. He had a grey fabric flower pinned to his pocket, the colour he was wearing matching Louis' outfit perfectly. He couldn't hide his grin at the fact Louis had deliberately matched in with him.

"You look more than nice," Harry assured, kissing his cheek, slipping his hand onto Louis' behind.

Louis' breath caught, a common result of Harry's touch upon him, especially in intimate places. He forced a smile as incoming guests greeted them, welcoming Louis as Harry's boyfriend.

"Guess I should look around," Louis said as Harry waved at his agent.

Harry pouted, but released him with a fond squeeze of his butt. Louis shot him a grin and a wink in return.

"Good turn out," James, Harry's agent commented as he came inside.

Harry nodded.

"I'm waiting for some feedback..."

"You need to get mingling," James teased.

Harry smiled, knowing he had indulged himself with Louis for too long. He headed into his detailed exhibition, standing with the fans and asking their opinions. 

His parents arrived late, an hour into the showing and Louis had hit it off with them right away, impressing Harry's dad with his football knowledge. Harry had just stood there holding his hand smiling at him with soft fond in his eyes that his mum definitely did not miss. He'd even blushed when he'd caught her looking at him, studying his loved-up look.

"He's a good lad," She'd told him when Des and Louis had drifted away to discuss the finer points of the game.

Harry nodded. "I'm glad you approve..."

And smiled, cupping his cheek.

"I can tell you're smitten..."

Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Well you know me, can't keep anything off my face," he teased.

She chuckled and hugged him, heading off into the crowd to find her husband and save Louis from football talk.

//

There was one collection of four photographs that seemed particularly popular. 

Harry headed toward them, the four pictures that made him the most nervous out of all of them. 

One of Louis, pouty and vulnerable, one of the first shots he had taken before Louis had completely realised he'd been snapping away. One of Louis' 'Kiss Me' tattoo, dimples included, spine included- a sensuous and misleading shot. It could almost be a woman's back the way he'd captured it. One of Louis hugging Niall, Niall's face obscured but Louis' grin and eye-crinkles evident. And the fourth one of Louis playing guitar, that day in Paris.

They were his favourite pictures but they also revealed him completely. revealed his feelings for the man in them, the way he shot him, the delicacy that Louis' features conveyed on film.

"Yeah, so what do you think?" Harry came up beside Perrie as she cradled a wine glass in one hand, head tilted.

She turned and looped her arm through his.

"I think you're gone on him, pet," she offered frankly, but not unkindly.

"I think you're right," Harry smiled.

"Good pictures, though," she looked at him. "Maybe your best..."

Harry started as a hand slipped in his, looking down a little to Louis' familiar face. Louis smirked at him.

"You didn't think to mention I'd be featured?" He teased.

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't sure you'd like them..."

Louis kissed the back of Harry's hand.

"You're right, I don't," he said. Then, "I love them."

Harry let a smile slip onto his lips.

"It's so hard for me to show people this...to show them what makes me," he described. "But your pictures...there were so many I didn't want to share and at he same time I did. To show everyone else what I saw..."

"You did a great job," Louis assured. "Look alright in them."

Harry leaned down and kissed him.

"You always look alright..."

Louis smiled, ducking away.

"Can you take them down now?" He teased.

Harry grinned.

"Say, how much for these?" A gentleman at Harry's other side asked and Harry realised Perrie had drifted away.

"Not for sale," Harry said as he tightened his grip on Louis' hand.

"You don't really want me hanging in your living room, do you?" Louis asked the man.

Harry knocked their joined hands against Louis' hip to chide him.

"No, in the bedroom," the man shared lightly, walking away with a wistful sigh.

Louis gaped after him, astounded. Harry didn't look happy.

"Who said he could come in?" He wondered. "That man is not welcome at any of my exhibitions," he mumbled.

Louis smiled at his jealousy.

"I dunno, he seems an alright bloke to me..."

Harry narrowed his gaze.

"Despite the fact he wants you in his bedroom," Harry husked.

Louis shrugged. "It's nice to feel loved, to be honest..."

Harry kissed his temple.

"Isn't my love enough?" He murmured into Louis' ear.

Louis turned, tip-toeing to reach Harry's mouth. He kissed him, claimingly.

"Always," he assured with a little smirk.

Harry relaxed, appeased.

"Do you think Chicago will be like Paris?" He wondered then.

Louis leaned into Harry's arm, Harry scooped it around his shoulders and Louis slipped his around his waist, still looking at the photos.

"Better," Louis promised. "I'll make sure of it."

Harry pressed a smile into Louis' hair, drawn away to another part of the collection to talk about how he set the shots. 

//

Harry had had a short chat with his dad about 'how things were developing' and once Harry had reminded him he was twenty-four and not about to start discussing his love-life, his dad had hugged him and told him to take care of himself and to stop 'flying around avoiding love'. His parents were headed to a hotel overnight before taking the train straight home, leaving Harry free to enjoy his time.

It was a long afternoon, all in all. Louis took his hand and led him to a little eatery when they'd locked up, Harry's prints all safely tucked away.

Harry ate with lazy slowness, eyeing Louis between mouthfuls.

"Thank you for coming today," he appreciated.

"Pfft, as if I'd miss it," Louis mused.

"You didn't have to though...I saw the paps outside," he added of the flashes they'd endured on their exit from the venue.

Louis shrugged.

"It's just life," he offered. "No way I'd miss out on that because of some stupid paps."

"They won't know you're in Chicago," Harry smiled.

"Nope...ninja stealth," Louis winked.

"Can't wait to be in you," Harry mumbled and Louis wondered if he'd heard right.

"What?" He said, bemused.

"Tonight," Harry husked. "Want to be in you so much."

Louis blinked, heat popping in his belly, spreading up his chest and down onto his thighs.

"Right, best get the bill then," he signalled for just that.

Harry regarded him with a big grin.

"M kinda tired, hope I don't let you down."

Louis grasped his hand and dragged him along the streets back to Harry's flat, pulling him into his arms and kissing him into the doorway.

"You can fall asleep," Louis murmured against his jaw, between kisses. "I really don't mind..."

Louis ended up riding Harry in his lap, Harry somewhat drained from his tiring work being host all afternoon. It was a good position- a great position- to be in. Louis got to flex his thighs, grasp Harry's shoulders and arch back to take him deeper. Harry got to tighten gentle hands around his hips, press up deep into him and splay a hand against his belly.

It was all kinds of intimate, facing, close and tight and intense. Always so intense.

"L- love you-" Harry stuttered as he came, deep inside Louis' body.

"Love you too, so much...too much," Louis panted, arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders as he got his breath, sated and exhausted.

Harry wrapped him in close, kissed his jaw achingly, so desperate to show his love. Louis kissed him back, soft lips to soft lips, big to small, it didn't matter.

They eased apart, wiped down their messy bodies with Harry's discarded t-shirt and spooned together to sleep.

"Harry?" Louis called in the dark, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Your exhibition was amazing..."

Harry smiled, kissing his shoulder.

"Thanks..."

"You can't waste your talent, okay? Working for a magazine isn't good enough," he said.

Harry frowned. What did that mean? Louis didn't want him to stay in London? He kissed the back of Louis' neck, felt Louis curl in pleasure, heard his little sound and saw his smile in the crinkle at the corner of his eyes.

His make up was smudged, his lashes longer than usual on his cheeks. Harry kissed him again just to feel him squirm in his arms. Louis was his. He still didn't quite believe it.

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" He soothed.

Louis settled, grasping Harry's hands that were linked under his ribs.

"Too good to waste," he murmured before he fell asleep.

Harry just wished he knew what it all meant.

//

It was over coffee and a full English that the topic came up again.

Harry had enjoyed making slow, intense love to Louis this morning from his spooned position behind him, neither of them leaving the bed until after that surprisingly epic union, agreeing on brunch before they had to pack for Chicago.

Although Louis was talking; the words weren't reaching Harry's ears. All he could think of when he looked at Louis was the way he'd been embedded within him this morning, so deep and tight he'd wondered where he ended and Louis began. All he remembered was Louis' cries, light and high and ecstatic. All he remembered was the way Louis' body curled in his arms, so needy for him, so desperate for his fill. He was getting a hard-on thinking about it.

"Are you even listening?" Louis accused, pouring their tea.

"No," Harry speared a mushroom, popped it in his mouth and chewed smugly.

"Why do I bother," Louis mused.

"Dunno," Harry smirked.

"Shall I start again?" Louis enquired patiently.

"No," Harry said, using both utensils to cut bacon and fork it into his mouth with beans.

Louis made a mock-annoyed face.

"Really? I just shouldn't bother speaking anymore then?"

"Nope," Harry shook his head.

"Okay well then maybe you should fill the gap?" Louis suggested, arching his brows.

Harry let his hooded eyes focus on his boyfriend. His very sexy boyfriend. His very sexy boyfriend he wanted to fill again, really soon.

"How fast can you eat?"

Louis choked on his egg.

"Wh-"

"In fact," Harry pushed his plate away, throwing down some bills, standing to grab Louis' wrist to lead him out, letting their hands twine as Harry led him back across the road to his apartment.

He had Louis on the bed under his lean body before Louis had time to protest about breakfast being cut short.

"Fuck, Harry," Louis grasped his face, pushing his tongue into his mouth to try and show Harry how much he wanted him, a hard task considering Harry apparently wanted him more.

"Can I," Harry slipped a hand down the back of Louis' trousers, palming his cheeks, pressing a finger to his hole, probably already sore from his two tops the last few hours. 

Louis arched his hips, pushing off his trousers, tugging off his borrowed tee.

"Yes, yes," Louis panted, not caring one bit that it was Harry who was owning him again, third time in little over twelve hours. He wouldn't mind if Harry owned him for the rest of his life, to be honest.

Harry took it slow, went deep and eased his body into Louis', spreading his cheeks with his thumb as he looked down to where they joined.

Louis whimpered helplessly into the bed covers, ass high, arms low. Harry was the gentlest he'd ever been, Louis felt no pain. Maybe a little soreness afterward, maybe a hint of bruising. His thighs ached, his ass hummed warmly.

Harry was cupping said ass while he petted Louis with kisses, facing him.

"So are we going to talk about what I said this morning?" Louis asked, husky and sated.

"No," Harry kissed his lips.

"Why not?" Louis said.

Harry gathered him close.

"Because any conversation that revolves around me not taking a job in London is not one I want to have right now..." He admitted.

Louis kissed him, his hair, his cheek.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say..."

"I do," Harry assured. "And it's how I should take every opportunity that comes my way...even if it means taking me away from you."

"But that's the thing," Louis cupped his cheek, sucking in a breath. "I'll come with you..."

"What?" Harry frowned, his face drawing into an almost comical expression of confusion.

"I wish you'd been listening at breakfast," he rolled his eyes.

"Was thinking about making love to you," Harry mumbled.

Louis softened, kissed him again.

"Okay, forgiven, but what I said was that if I take this year out like I planned, I can come with you...write while we're on the road as it were..."

Harry pressed his lips together. "And after this year?"

Louis blinked. "We'll talk again."

"And you'll let me take a job in London?" He checked.

Louis bit his lip. "There's other ways...like maybe I can plan my tour around your schedule..."

Harry wrapped his arms aright around Louis and pulled him in close.

"I don't want you to be part of my schedule. I want to be with you, always."

"That's just clingy," Louis accused, his joke falling flat.

"I don't want you to give up your career for me." Louis said resolutely.

Harry kissed into his hair.

"It's not just for you. My mum's been on at me for ages about coming back for a bit...and I've been feeling so lonely flying here there and everywhere I've wanted to make London my home for some time."

Louis peeked at him.

"You were always going to take a step back?"

Harry nodded.

"Then can we still do it, still have a year travelling and then see what happens?"

Harry sighed. Louis knew he had won him over.

"I suppose it makes sense..."

Louis grinned, kissing Harry's swallow tattoo. Harry trailed his hand down Louis' side, slipping his fingers against his lower back where his 'Kiss Me' tattoo was etched.

Louis bit at his jaw.

"Trying to ask me something, Styles?"

"Kiss me, you fool..."

Louis happily obliged.

//

 

Chicago was different to Paris. Harry was on set almost all day leaving them only the nights to enjoy together. They enjoyed the utter freedom of striding hand in hand down every street, animated and insanely-happy in their gait. They had their own little world, really, Louis' and Harry's world.

It was a safe place for both of them to sink into; enveloped in love and trust, something that still felt odd at times but was soon becoming second-nature.

In fact, Harry found it hard to remember how he'd survived before this-on brief flings and short-lived relationships. He even wondered how things had worked out with Louis, seeing several times that things could have taken a very different turn.

He was glad they hadn't. He and Louis were so compatible, it didn't matter if they had the odd disagreement or argued constantly about Louis' sexiness (Harry thought he was very sexy, Louis begged to differ). It was just them. And neither of the two men had had that before really, a feeling of an 'us' that could stand up to the world.

They were sitting side by side in a diner-booth, eating apple crumble- a British classic that had made its way here- and both leaning over the table to read the latest article on them.

Louis Finds Love in C-Town?

British favourite, singer Louis Tomlinson has been spotted out and about in the great City. 

After spending a romantic break in Paris with rumoured beau, Harry Styles- a professional and highly rated photographer-he now seems to have set his sights on good ol' Chicago Town.

There have been many sightings of the world-famous crooner posted to social media, with Twitter gaining a popular hash tag of #HarryTomlinson since the diminutive singer is often seen with his love-interest.

The question remains, though...will Louis settle down with celebrity-favourite snapper Styles or will their summer of globe-trotting end as a fling?

If anyone spots the loved-up duo around town, send your pictures to us at the below email address.

 

"Oh, I'm only a rumour now," Harry pouted of his downgrade.

Louis leaned down and kissed his bicep.

"I'll call them, demand a reprint..."

"Anyone will think they can get in with you," Harry bemoaned. "Love interest...makes me sound like I'm kidding myself to be with you..."

"They called you a successful photographer," Louis bolstered. "I'm just a bloody 'crooner'," he scoffed.

Harry smiled, kissing Louis' temple. Louis took Harry's hand, eating his dessert one-handed. He rubbed his thumb along Harry's.

"We're just a fling, apparently," he sighed.

Louis fed him a bit of his crumble. Harry instantly perked up.

"Fuckwits, the lot of them," Louis announced. "If they can't see how bloody in love with you I am then they must be blind..."

Harry turned a little, kissed him with sticky lips.

"I'm in love with you, too."

"I know," Louis smiled into his face. They were so close their smiles mirrored with crinkled eyes.

"I only tell you every day," Harry pointed out.

"As do I," Louis countered, the smallest of fibs.

In fact, Harry found increasingly inventive ways of telling Louis he loved him. Picture messages- rose petals spelling out the words, sometimes people with boards, sometimes scrabble letters or parts of signs he'd managed to snap.

Louis was quite pleased his boyfriend was a photographer. He looked forward to those picture messages more than any others.

And it wasn't as if Louis didn't want to tell Harry every day that he felt the same, but somehow words and text messages didn't meet up to Harry's efforts.

He had an idea and as it formed in his mind a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

"Why do you look funny?" Harry asked, turning back to his dessert.

Louis smirked. "No reason..."

"What are you planning?" He asked knowingly.

"Can I take you for dinner tonight?" Louis wondered.

Harry dimpled.

"Yes..."

"Good," he finished his sweet treat with a smack of his lips.

"Excuse me Mister?" A young voice called, a hand tugging at Harry's t-shirt hem.

He turned, finding a young girl there.

"Hii," he smiled. "How are you?"

"Can I say hello to your friend?" She asked shyly, ducking behind her hand as Louis looked over Harry's lap to see who was there.

Harry slipped out of the booth to crouch, cupping her little arm.

"Who, him?" He thumbed behind him and she nodded, sucking her lip. "You like him?" He asked.

The little girl nodded again, blushing this time.

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Emelia," She said.

"I'm Harry," he shook her hand, winking. "So you like Louis' music?" He checked.

"He's got that one thing," she smiled shyly, using one of Louis' old lyrics from when he was in a band.

"He certainly does," Harry murmured. "Can I have a hug first?"

She moved into his arms and he expertly lifted her up, propping her on his hip. He checked about the restaurant for Emelia's parents, to make sure he wasn't overstepping the mark. they were stood a few feet away waiting to leave, holding her raincoat.

They smiled at him and he took that as signal to carry on.

"So, Emelia, there's somebody I want you to meet..." Harry told her as he stayed facing away from Louis deliberately so the little girl wouldn't be overwhelmed.

"Okay," she nodded, biting her lip.

Harry turned, giving Louis the softest smile.

"This is my friend, Louis..."

Emelia ducked her cheek into Harry's chest shyly. Harry almost cried at her cuteness. Louis looked pretty shiny in the eyes too, but Harry tried to ignore the adoring look his boyfriend was giving him right now.

"Louis, this is my new friend Emelia," he introduced.

"Hey, nice to meet you," Louis saluted from his seat.

"I reallyreallyreally like your songs," she mumbled into her thumb- now wedged in her mouth.

Harry shifted her a little on his hip, gesturing Louis to get up.

"You know what Emelia likes?" He asked Louis. "Hugs," he supplied knowingly.

Emelia gasped, instantly opening her arms. Louis chuckled and gave her a gentle tiny-hug and kissed her cheek.

"You're a very pretty girl," he said and she ducked into Harry's chest again.

Louis could quite understand how she felt, hiding behind her hands in Harry's long, strong body.

"Hey, we should take a picture, right?" Louis suggested. 

Emelia gasped and looked to her mom.

"Mommy, Mommy, can I take a picture?" She begged.

Emelia's mom brought her phone across.

"It's really too kind of you," she thanked. "She just wanted to say hello..."

Louis smiled, shaking her hand. "Type your address into my phone, I'll get some pictures sent out..."

Emelia's mom quickly typed in their address and lifted the camera, snapping the three of them.

"Hey, you want one with just Louis?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, still hiding.

"I want one," Louis stated then, pointing his phone into Harry's shoulder. "Emelia can I get a picture with you?" He asked.

Emelia looked like all her birthdays and Christmases had come at once. Harry put her to the ground and Louis crouched where she climbed between his legs to sit on his thigh, little arm around his neck as she sucked her fingers.

As soon as Harry passed him his phone back, he set it as his screensaver, showing the girl.

"See?" He touched the tip of her nose with a crinkled grin.

"I want one!" She cooed and Emelia's mom took another photo on her own phone.

"Come on, honey," she held out her hand for Emelia to take.

"I love you, Louis," she hugged her arms around his neck and he swallowed hard, tipping his head to try and understand why.

"Thank you," he smiled. "I love you, too," he held up his phone and pointed to it. "My favourite girl..."

She turned to look up at Harry, intimidated by his height now he was tall above her. Harry quickly crouched and she hugged him too.

"I love you, Harry," she said in his neck. "Are you and Louis boyfriends?"

Harry let out an amused breath, checked to Emelia's mom before she replying. She nodded her approval.

"Yeah...yeah we are," Harry admitted.

"Look after him," she told him as she pulled away. "He's my favourite person."

"I know the feeling sweetheart," Harry gave his best crooked grin as Emelia was led away by her parents, both men taking deep breaths before they paid up and left.

"Wow, she was a heart-breaker," Harry shook his head.

"You were so good with her," Louis observed.

"Kids are the best," Harry mused.

Louis could imagine Harry having kids. Could imagine him playing with them, being the soft touch. He could imagine himself being the disciplined one, the strict parent. But then-what? Just--what?

He'd been dating Harry for two months it was hardly time to be thinking about having kids. He shook his head confusedly as they worked their way through the streets hand in hand.

"So, you want kids, eventually?" Louis wondered.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "One day. You?" He asked back, equally light.

Louis smiled. Hadn't even thought about it until five minutes ago but now he was damn sure he was having kids. As long as Harry was their daddy.

"Yeah," he nodded.

Harry squeezed his hand, planting a kiss on his lips before they parted ways- Harry off to his shoot and Louis heading to the park to do some writing.


	11. Chapter 11

chapter 11

 

_All it takes is just one hand_

_A hand in mine a smile upon your lips_

_I know that this happiness can't last forever_

_But as long as I can feel you_

_Feel your hand in mine_

_I know everything will be alright_

//

 

The picture of Harry and Emelia had already gone viral.

 

Louis hadn't shared his own photo, just tweeted:

 

_Met a beautiful girl called Emelia today, she stole my heart <3_

Of course, he'd had a few thousand retweets and lots of speculation over who Emelia was but once the picture got out there, it was Harry who became the Celebrity.

 

#HarryTomlinson was Worldwide number one trend and Liam even called him with the news.

 

He read all the lovely comments people were writing about his beau, overwhelmed by people's love for him. They didn't know Harry, not really, but the picture of him stood there talking to a shy little girl in his arms had warmed the hearts of many. Louis hadn't even realised Emelia's mom had been taking pictures while she was in Harry's arms.

 

There was something about the combination of Harry's strong, sexy body and child-like reverence that made for an irresistible combination. Louis really wanted to get him into bed.

 

Still, they had dinner to eat and formalities to fulfil. He could wait for Harry, forever of he needed to. He headed out after lunch, hands jammed in jacket pockets, baseball cap pulled low so as not to be recognised. He bought what he needed- just two stops and then headed back to get ready.

 

He dressed in skinny jeans and plimsolls with a black tee, casual, relaxed...natural. He went and got Harry from work, Harry's whose hair was pushed back with a bandana, his black jeans and tee matching Louis perfectly.

 

The entered the Green Zebra hand in hand.

 

Their table was away from the main walkway, quiet and nice. it was flanked with large ferns, giving them privacy.

 

"Good choice," Harry nodded, impressed.

 

Louis lifted his brows.

 

"You have your own following now, you know," he said, fondly.

 

Harry made a face.

 

"I do not."

 

"You were trending on twitter," Louis shared.

 

"Tomlinson was trending on twitter," Harry amended.

 

" _Harry_ Tomlinson," Louis pointed out.

 

"Well, Emelia was a sweetheart, who wouldn't have doted on her?" Harry argued.

 

"You're amazing, you know what?" Louis complimented.

 

Harry studied his menu.

 

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," he mumbled, ordering a spinach lasagne when the waitress came back.

 

Louis chose vegetable pie.

 

"How many songs did you write today?" Harry asked as he tucked into his food.

 

"Two," Louis beamed proudly.

 

"About me?" Harry fished.

 

"Not sure I'd be able to release those kinds of songs," Louis winked.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"Pervert," he accused.

 

"I like to think of it as romantic?" Louis suggested.

 

"Too filthy for general release and romantic?" Harry posed.

 

Louis shrugged. "I can only do so much with poetry, at the end of the day it is what it is..."

 

Harry blinked, chewing with a smile.

 

"Ass-sex," Harry accused.

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Exactly. How's the shoot going?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Yeah, I have a lot of photos. they don't seem too worried about me editing them so I'm just on hand to capture whatever they want."

 

"Good gig," Louis decided.

 

Harry nodded. "Easy," he shrugged.

 

"You like a challenge," Louis observed.

 

"You noticed," Harry teased.

 

Louis had never considered himself a challenge until now. Maybe Harry was right.

 

"You got me," Louis winked.

 

"But can I keep you?" Harry asked and Louis wasn't sure if he was teasing or not.

 

"Forever if you like," Louis offered brazenly.

 

Harry's gaze snapped up, he chewed very slowly.

 

"Forever is a long time," Harry ventured.

 

Louis nodded, tuning down his lips. "I suppose so..."

 

"When we make it past five years I'll think about it..."

 

"Okay," Louis shrugged.

 

Harry glanced at him but didn't say anything else.

 

"So, I thought we could walk back to the hotel from here," Louis said then.

 

"Sounds nice," Harry agreed.

 

"Cut through the park..."

 

"Sounds creepy," Harry smirked.

 

"I'll be there to protect you," Louis supplied smugly.

 

"My hero," Harry fluttered his lashes.

 

Louis laughed and once they'd eaten they headed out hand in hand. One fan recognised Harry from today's tweet; sandwiching between them to have a photo but then they were free to enjoy the night.

 

"The fountain looks amazing in the dark," Louis tugged Harry towards it.

 

Harry wrapped him up, kissed him for long moments. Louis made sure he kissed him back for longer.

 

"So," he pulled away, shivering into his light jacket.

 

"So," Harry echoed, still with his arms around Louis.

 

Louis squeezed his arm down to his pocket, tugging insistently until a box came out.

 

"This is a little something I bought today..." He led, swallowing as he lifted his gaze to Harry's.

 

Harry's brow furrowed as his eyes flicked from Louis' nervous ones to his trembling hand.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Open it," Louis poked the box into his chest.

 

Harry took it, flicking Louis a suspicious look. He split the box, half expecting it to be filled with exploding confetti.

 

It wasn't. It housed a cushion upon which sat a very expensive-looking ring. A beautiful ring. A ring he could admire all night if he was allowed to.

 

It was silver and thick and the band was split in two. It was very edgy and modern and so, so simple.

 

He looked up, blinking confusedly at Louis.

 

"It's for me?" He asked.

 

Louis nodded, breath caught in his throat waiting for Harry's reaction.

 

"Fuck, it's beautiful," he breathed, taking it out, slipping it into his middle finger.

 

Louis watched him, wondering if he knew the significance of wearing it.

 

"You like it?" He checked, even though it was evident Harry did.

 

"Lou...why...what-?" He asked breathlessly.

 

Louis tucked his arms around Harry's middle, kissing his cheek.

 

"Because I took too long to get here and it happened too soon when I did," he mused. "I didn't want there to be any doubt about this, about us. whatever happens, I'm making a commitment to be with you..."

 

"Me, too," Harry kissed his mouth, once, firmly.

 

"I'd give up everything in a heartbeat," he promised.

 

"As would I," Louis assured. "I hope this ring proves it."

 

Harry nodded, smiling at him.

 

"Thank you," he gushed.

 

Louis kissed him for another moment-or two.

 

"The press will pick up on it straight away," he warned.

 

"Fuck the press, I'm tweeting this," Harry scoffed.

 

Louis cupped his cheek with a chuckle.

 

"I love you, you know?"

 

"I know."

 

"I'd never leave you."

 

"Same," Harry assured.

 

"Can I top tonight?" Louis asked next, making Harry's dimples deepen.

 

"You bet," he agreed, tugging Louis the rest of the way to the hotel.

 

//

 

_Got me a sexy man and a promise ring ;)_

Harry's tweet was trending.

 

#HarryTomlinson ENGAGED?

#HarryTomlinson He put a ring on it!

#HarryTomlinson Spotted in Lincoln Park, making out :p

 

"So they think I proposed," Louis mused as Harry pottered about in the room the next evening, dinner having been spent at their hotel.

 

It wasn't that they didn't want to go out it was just-well, they didn't want to go out.

 

Louis was slumped on the sofa, notebook in lap, pencil twirling in his fingers. Harry drifted by in a towel, freshly showered. Louis watched him wistfully, pursing his lips in some kind of silent expression as to the fact his lips wanted to be closer to Harry's skin. Upon it would be ideal.

 

Harry mock-gasped from the bathroom having headed back there past Louis again.

 

"You mean you didn't!"

 

Louis smirked.

 

"Not yet, sweetheart," he replied.

 

Harry stuck his head out the door, now avec boxers and a t-shirt.

 

"We've got time," Harry teased.

 

"But you'll probably get hounded," Louis warned. "Press can be nosey bastards..."

 

"I'm going to complain loudly that it's not an engagement ring and ask any interested parties to contact me," he promised.

 

Louis looked up from his page, his furrowed brow releasing into a handsome smile. Harry plopped next to him on the sofa, moisturising his hands.

 

"Settled?" Louis teased.

 

Harry put his hands on his knees.

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Shall we go to bed?" Louis asked, rubbing his eye tiredly.

 

Harry got up again, tugging Louis toward their king-size, curling up on it and pulling Louis into his arms.

 

"Thank you for my promise ring," he husked.

 

Louis smiled, squeezing his hand that rested by his ribs.

 

"S' alright," he teased, warm and happy.

 

" # _Let me be the one you call If you jump I'll break your fall Lift you up and fly away with you into the night If you need to fall apart I can mend a broken heart If you need to crash then crash and burn you're not alone..#"_

 

Louis leaned back against Harry as he huskily sang into his hair. Louis picked up his hand and kissed each of his fingertips in thanks.

 

"We should duet, we can tour together and all our problems are solved," Louis suggested.

 

Harry chuckled, nuzzling into the back of his neck.

 

"I'm going to be a roadie, I've decided."

 

"No, I'm going to be a photographer's assistant," Louis argued.

 

"And what does one of them do?" Harry challenged.

 

"Kisses the photographer." Louis offered.

 

"How often?" Harry considered this new role Louis had created.

 

"All the time," Louis assured.

 

"Okay, hired," Harry grinned into Louis' shoulder.

 

"Tu es mon petit ami," Louis sighed out, blissful.

 

"Je suis," Harry agreed with a kiss to Louis' bare skin, making him shiver.

 

"Vous êtes dans le monde!" Louis added, giggling.

 

"Tais-toi," Harry replied.

 

"Wait, what?" Louis asked, fidgeting in his arms.

 

"Do you even know what you're saying?" Harry asked.

 

"Yes, but not what you said..."

 

"I said shut up," Harry repeated in a language Louis understood.

 

Louis stuck his tongue out where Harry wouldn't see.

 

" _Now_ tell me I'm the world," Harry derided, running his hand into Louis' side, digging his fingers into the soft skin on his belly.

 

Louis really didn't like the way Harry loved his belly. He could mostly ignore it if nobody touched there, but Harry seemed obsessed with his stomach and he'd given up trying to argue over it.

 

"You are the world, Harry," Louis announced. "You're _my_ world."

 

"Go to bloody sleep," Harry husked but Louis didn't miss the smile Harry pressed into his back.

 

//

 

 

It's not like Harry was the bored one, he had plenty keeping him busy at the theatre but he still managed to finger through the paper when the cast took a cigarette break. 

 

_Is Harry Good Enough For Louis?_

 

The latest by-line made him frown.

 

_H_ _arry Styles may be a professional artist in his own right but reports suggest his love life has been pretty chequered so far._

_It can't be easy staying faithful when you move around so much but some of Tomlinson's fans are getting antsy about the extended time the pair are spending together,  fearing their beloved idol will get his heart broken by the hands of a man much more used to breaking up and moving on._

_Tomlinson's relationship past is somewhat of a mystery with the odd kiss and tell from a lucky fan but he's not had a significant other for some time which leaves his fans thinking he's falling head first in love with the handsome Harry._

_Of course he's a grown man and his feisty nature would have most of us believe he'd never be a guy to be wrapped around anyone's finger but the small group of dedicated fans who have set up #HateHarry on Twitter might have something else to say about it..._

 

Harry's face fell, his lips twisted and his features crumpled.

 

"You alright Haz?" Joey; one of the cast members checked. 

 

"No not really," he sighed passing him the sheet.

 

"Oh ignore it, " Joey didn't even read beyond the tag line. "They'll always find something to say to sell their rag..."

 

"What if they're right?" Harry sighed.

 

Joey smirked. 

 

"The times I've seen you together not likely, " he snorted. 

 

When Harry began chewing at his lip, Joey cupped his shoulder. 

 

"Seriously dude, that Louis guy loves you..." Harry nodded resolutely.

 

Of course.  Of course he did. _They loved each other_. 

 

"I don't have a bloody chequered love life," he muttered as he avoided the smoke Joey was expelling while he puffed away. 

 

Joey chuckled. "You've got it bad bro," he teased.

 

Harry forced a smile. 

 

"Yeah," he accepted sheepishly.  "Think maybe I do..."

 

"Come on get inside, " Joey got Harry into an affectionate head lock and tugged him through the fire exit with a brush of his knuckles through Harry's hair.

 

//

 

"Hey!" Louis rolled up as Harry came into the hotel room; slinging down his camera bag and pulling Louis tight into his body with a big, owning hug.

 

"Hey," he hummed, kissing Louis' temple.

 

"Missed you, where you been?" Louis wondered of the slightly later-than-normal return of his beau.

 

"Out walking," Harry shared. "Thinking..."

 

Louis looked up, pulling away slightly.

 

"Oh?" He asked lightly, his heart palpitating heavily in his chest as he swallowed nervously.

 

This was it, this was the moment Harry finally saw the light and realised Louis was no good for him. He'd probably met some guy at work who treated him like a million dollars and Harry had come to the natural conclusion that Louis was a shit boyfriend. Louis didn't know whether to offer him a prize.

 

"Yeah...look, I saw something in the press today," Harry began, biting his lip as he moved out of Louis' arms and sank into the sofa.

 

Louis decided to throw caution to the wind, straddling Harry's lap. Harry's hands went automatically to his thighs, resting on their outer curves gently. His green eyes looked troubled, his frown deep-set. His lips were bitten red and he hadn't looked Louis' straight in the eyes yet.

 

"What did it say?" Louis wondered, a little breathless.

 

"That I'm not good enough for you," Harry admitted.

 

"What?!" Louis choked, spitting out the word with a whoosh of bemused air. "Fuck, they got us mixed up, didn't they?" he added after.

 

"Said about the amount of guys I've slept with" Harry said ignoring Louis' comment.

 

His hands were fiddling in his lap, brushing the crotch of Louis' jeans from where Louis was sat across his lap.

 

"It doesn't matter," Louis cupped his face, encouraging him to look up.

 

Harry met Louis' understanding blue gaze. Before he'd met Louis he was a self assured guy. He wondered what had happened.  Louis swallowed. 

 

"Can you stick the press do you think?" Louis asked, his brows furrowing worriedly.

 

Harry blinked, his lips twisting slowly to form a crooked smile.

 

"You think I want out?" He grasped Louis' t-shirt in pinching fingertips as he gave his boyfriend a seductive look. 

 

"You might", Louis sighed. "Can't say long term has worked out for me before..."

 

Harry tilted his face, hands going to Louis' hips. 

 

"It will this time," Harry assured.

 

Louis knocked his head back hardly able to keep his assured grin hidden. 

 

"So how bad is it?" He teased. "What's your number? "

 

Harry rolled his eyes. As if he'd kept count of the number of guys he'd been with. 

 

"I don't sleep around," is all he said. "I guess they assume everyone I'm seen with is a sexual conquest of mine..."

 

"I'm honoured to join the ranks," Louis  cupped his arms, pressing his thumbs into Harry's biceps.

 

Harry laughed,  folding Louis against his body with a tight hug around his shoulders.  He sighed out.

 

"I don't get why your fans don't like me," Harry pouted a little as Louis pulled back far enough to kiss his sulky lips.

 

"They're jealous, " Louis announced.  "You're not the first guy to come under fire just for dating me."

 

"There's a 'hate Harry' hash tag on Twitter, " Harry shared. 

 

Louis frowned, wriggling out of Harry's lap to find his phone.  He brought it back with him, climbing back into Harry's lap,  slipping an arm around his shoulders and tilting their heads together to take a shot that made it obvious how they were entwined.

 

He smirked as he typed into his keypad, looking to Harry with a smug grin.

 

"What did you put?" Harry wondered, fingering his new ring with a bite of his lip. Louis turned his phone so Harry could see.

 

 _I do so I'd love it if you did too #LoveHarry_.

 

Harry darted his eyes to Louis. Louis lifted his brows, lips pursing smugly. His phone was lost down the side of the sofa as they came together;  wrestling for dominance. Louis let Harry win but only for tonight and anyway Harry felt so lovely against him so heavy and beautiful.  He loved making love facing him, loved looking in his desire-blown pupils and seeing what a little squeeze of his muscles did to his boyfriend.  He loved taking his hardness in his hand, stroking him to ecstasy. The room walls captured their cries, their pants and their desperation. 

Their secrets were safe here wrapped up and protected. Louis clutched Harry tight as their breathing resumed to normal; their bodies sated. If he let go Harry might realise he was the one who wasn't good enough.  No way near in fact

 

He smiled softly as Harry settled in his arms with a happy hum. Louis ruffled his hair fondly ; kissing into those curls like a love sick sap.

 

"They can print what they like if I get you out of it," Louis murmured. 

 

Harry nuzzled into his neck.  "You get me," Harry husked. "You've always had me," he added sheepishly. 

 

"Me too," Louis admitted, holding him tight. He felt Harry nose further into him as he drifted off to sleep.

 

//

 

Dinner was room service at 1am when they stirred,  Harry making love to Louis for a second time before Harry had to get up and ready for work. He had a couple of days off from the theatre and was doing his first music shoot, Perrie and Zayn both busy leaving him to call in his American assistant Cobey.

 

Cobey was pretty camp, small and lithe like Zayn with black hair and blue eyes. He wore his sexuality like a big badge, flashing and bright but Harry didn't mind that because he pulled it out of the bag every time as far as styling went. And his slightly over-the-top nature would be perfect for this shoot.

 

Harry really didn't have the first clue about film direction so the artist- an up and coming singer called Jayda-had hired an assistant Director to work with Harry. It was a learning curve for him and he was surprised to find his photography skills transferring quite easily into moving film.

 

It was at mid-morning break that Harry was refusing Cobey's advances.

 

"Hey, gorgeous," Cobey walked over to where Harry had carried his tea away from the main crowd on set, slipping his phone out of his pocket to text Louis.

 

Before he could work the digits, Cobey's palm was pressing between his thighs.

 

"Easy there buddy!" Harry jumped back, careful not to spill his tea.

 

"Come on, you've never been shy," Cobey winked.

 

"I have a boyfriend," Harry stated.

 

"Oh?" Cobey enquired. Harry guessed he didn't read the papers.

 

"Yeah. Guy named Louis," he held up his hand to showcase his promise ring.

 

"Oh my god!" He gasped, hand over mouth dramatically. "Harry Styles is off the market?!"

 

Harry nodded, sipping his warm drink. "Yep," he agreed happily, his dimples deep set at his attempt to hide them while working.

 

"Why didn't you call, I'd have put a ring on it," Cobey pouted.

 

Harry smiled. They'd rolled in the hay a few times when they'd been on a three week shoot in Malaysia. They'd met up a few times when they got back but inevitably, their schedules had torn them apart. It had never been serious, nothing to get over or worry about emotions-wise.

 

"I didn't choose it," he offered as solace for his old friend and colleague.

 

Cobey sighed.

 

"Well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later," he mused. "So tell me about him..." He begged.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

"He sings and he's sexy as fuck," Harry described with a wan smile.

 

"Is he a good boyfriend?" Cobey asked, evidencing a little friendly concern.

 

Harry bit his lip. All in all, Louis was good for him, good with him. Yeah he fucked up sometimes, who didn't? Harry was sure he had a few years of fucking up to do yet.

 

"Yeah...yeah he is," he nodded, a slight heat on his cheeks.

 

"Aw, look at you, all cute and in love," Cobey accused with a fond push into Harry's shoulder.

 

Harry slid him a look under half-closed lashes.

 

"It's not been plain sailing," he assured.

 

"He's got to be worth it then," Cobey winked, turning back to the set as Jayda called time on break.

 

//

 

"Some guy groped my crotch today," Harry said by way of introduction as he came into the room.

 

Louis had gotten up to greet him but paused as Harry slid his bag down.

 

"Who?" His beau asked, frowning.

 

Harry opened his arms, signalling he wanted a greeting first.

 

Louis moved toward him and tucked up into him; his smaller body the perfect fit. Harry hummed with overwhelming fondness for his petite boyfriend. It turned into a husky growl as he squeezed hard and rocked side to side, dropping kisses to Louis' temple.

 

"My old friend Cobey," Harry supplied with a light shrug and a smirk.

 

Louis ran his hands up Harry's chest.

 

"He just-went for it?" He checked.

 

Harry nodded. "I told him I was taken," he assured.

 

"Is he an ex?" Louis asked suspiciously.

 

Harry blushed. "Maybe."

 

Louis cupped his neck, stretched up to kiss Harry in a way that would make him forget about all of his exes. In fact, he couldn't seem to remember anyone else but Louis once Louis pulled away.

 

 _LouisLouisLouis_ , he was sure his brain was short-circuiting on his addiction.

 

Harry sucked in a breath as he felt Louis' hands working his jeans fastening; insistently pressing them down to bare his legs. Harry had no choice but to step out of them.

 

"Wha-" he began, only to be cut off by Louis' owning kiss, the way he pushed off his coat and tugged off his tee, slipping his hands under Harry's boxers to cup his behind.

 

Harry groaned and staggered forward only to be pressed back against the wall as Louis bent to strip off his underwear. Harry stood panting, naked and hardening by the second, stunned by the dark look in Louis' eyes.

 

"Lou?" He husked. "I didn't meant to make you jealous-it was a joke," he offered.

 

Louis kissed him again in reply, bit his lip playfully. Harry didn't get a chance to undress Louis because Louis was determined to do everything apparently, especially own his crotch. He sank to his knees and hollowed his cheeks the way Harry knew he could do so, so well and Harry was soon spilling into his lips where Louis swallowed down his seed.

 

It was what Louis did to him after that, that rendered him speechless. He turned him into the wall, ass out, fingered him, tongued him and filled him, hard and tight; his sweet, hot breaths panting into Harry's ear as he pushed in over and over.

 

Harry thought he might be lifting onto tiptoes to reach; felt every inch of Louis' front pressing into his back and he gave himself up, pushed beautifully into the wall where his arms braced him and his thighs spread to take Louis between them.

 

"Mine," Louis husked, thrusting deep, with claiming hands on Harry's body-fingering his belly; clutching his waist, tightening around his hips.

 

He even clawed down Harry's back gently and kissed the path, biting into his muscled shoulder teasingly.

 

"Yours," Harry whined out, taken, loving every second.

 

Louis wasn't rough but he was hard. Hard and owning and claiming and every other possessive word out there. Harry wondered if he should come home with tales of how other men had touched him more often. Louis' hand was back on his dick and stroking him with equal intensity as to how he was filling him.

 

It was probably the best sex Harry had ever had.

 

They lay together afterward, naked and entwined on the sofa. Louis had Harry in his arms since Harry was unable to form words and was only good to nose into Louis' throat and cling to him. Louis stroked his lovely pale skin and dropped kisses into his hair.

 

"You sure you're okay?" Louis husked.

 

Harry nodded, dropped a kiss to Louis' chest where he curled needily.

 

"I didn't hurt you did I?"

 

Harry's head shook side to side.

 

"Maybe we should go out to dinner tonight since we stayed in last night..." Louis ventured.

 

Harry burrowed into his chest, shaking his head.

 

"Whoa...okay," Louis smiled, curling his arms back around Harry.

 

It was the weirdest thing seeing Harry so vulnerable when he was so big. So damn big and usually so damn masculine. Louis wondered if he had inadvertently tapped into some submissive role-play that Harry had maybe enacted before.

 

"Haz, talk to me," he begged.

 

Harry pressed a kiss to his breast bone, then his collarbone.

 

"Love you," he managed.

 

Louis guessed it would have to do.

 

"I love you too, curly-boy," his eyes crinkled as he grinned to himself. He sounded like a mush and he didn't care.

 

"Feed me?" Harry pouted, twisting his neck to look up.

 

Louis laughed then, seeing him coming around from their overwhelming sex. He always felt that way himself- kind of knocked for six but it was the first time he'd seen Harry really stunned. He guessed he was doing something right to catch the other man unawares.

 

Louis ordered room service and planned to feed Harry every bite.


	12. Chapter 12

The following day was the start of their second week in Chicago.

 

Louis decided to take his guitar down town and sing on the streets. He wanted to try out some of his new stuff and see what people thought, see if he was on the right track. He sang 'Too Soon', the song he showcased at his small gig before they left and he sang two more songs he'd been working on as well as the two he'd written while in Chicago.

 

It was something of a success, he soon gathered an audience, a lot of those people recognised him and began to take pictures and videos. He felt innately comfortable standing there on the edge of a precinct, husky voice lilting over the words, his audience for once not paying to be there but listening because they wanted to. At least he hoped so. He hoped they didn't just stand there because they recognised him.

 

He bowed humbly as applause sounded as he finished his set.

 

"Thank you," he appreciated, saluting as the crowd dispersed.

 

The sea of admirers parted and a familiar face appeared.

 

"Hey!" He grinned, crouching. "Emelia!"

 

The little girl shuffled forward, tugging her mom behind her, fingers in mouth.

 

"Louis," she grinned around her digits and Louis hugged her gently when she came close.

 

Louis flicked her mother a smile.

 

"Nice to see you again," he said.

 

"It's Ella," she told him her name.

 

He nodded. "You want to hear a special song?" He asked.

 

Ella smiled and lifted Emelia into her arms, resting the small girl on her hip.

 

Louis shifted them slightly away from the main entrance, sitting on a bench where Emelia sat in Ella's lap.

 

He began to strum.

 

_All it takes is just one hand_

_A hand in mine a smile upon your lips_

_I know that this happiness can't last forever_

_But as long as I can feel you_

_Feel your hand in mine_

_I know everything will be alright_

_All I need is just one love_

_A love so strong and so, so kind_

_I know that you can't be here forever_

_But as long as you are beside me_

_I can feel you near me_

_And everything will be alright_

_I didn't know it could be so good_

_I didn't know your love would be so pure_

_How could I know the stars danced all night_

_In your eyes, oh in your eyes_

_And you're the best thing I ever had_

_If I had known I'd have held you tight_

_I'd never have let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want tonight_

_Oh yeah, all I want tonight_

_All I need is you right here_

_Your body close and your voice in my ear_

_Your curly hair itching up my skin_

_I feel you move I don't want it to end_

_Will you be there, be by man?_

 

_I didn't know it could be so good_

_I didn't know your love would be so pure_

_How could I know thee stars danced all night_

_In your eyes, oh in your eyes_

_And you're the best thing I ever had_

_If I had known I'd have held you tight_

_I'd never have let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want tonight_

_Oh yeah, all I want tonight_

_Ohh-ohh all I want tonight_

_Ohh-ohh by my side_

_Ohh-ohh be my man_

_ohh-ohh hold you tight_

_And you're the best thing I've ever had_

_All I want is to hold you tight_

_I will never let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want all my life_

_Oh yeah, all I want all my life..._

Louis looked up to find Emelia gazing at him, blinking wide eyes as she clutched her mother's arm. He slipped his guitar between his legs and smiled sheepishly.

 

"Did you like it?" He asked the blonde-haired, blue eyed heart-breaker.

 

She nodded.

 

"I've not heard that one before," she said.

 

"It's new," Louis said. "I played it just for you. Nobody else has heard it..."

 

She o'd her mouth.

 

"Not even Harry?"

 

Louis chuckled.

 

"Especially not Harry..."

 

She grinned and scrabbled out of Ella's lap to hug her arms around his neck. He flicked Ella a smile.

 

"I want you to stay in touch," he said.

 

Ella looked surprised.

 

"Really? Are you sure?"

 

He nodded.

 

"I'll miss you when I go home," he predicted.

 

Emelia pulled away and sat in Louis' lap, deciding it was better there than in her mother's. Louis ruffled her hair and stuck his tongue out with crossed-eyes and she looked up, giggling beautifully at his funny face.

 

"Lou-eeh," she chided. "You're funny..."

 

"Yeah," he smirked. "Some might say..."

 

"We should go, honey," Ella told Emelia after agreeing to write back to Louis once they received the fan pack he was arranging to have sent out.

 

"Picture!" Emelia demanded.

 

Louis posed for a few shots before the two females headed off with waves. Emelia had told him to say Hi to Harry for her and he planned to pass the message on as soon as he could. He sat back and sighed happily, forwning as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

He checked the caller ID.

 

"Liam," he greeted warmly to his manager.

 

"I've booked you a flight," Liam greeted.

 

Louis laughed out loud.

 

"It's Sunday, I have five days left of my holiday," he said.

 

"Only need you for a few hours," Liam said.

 

Louis realised he wasn't joking.

 

"Okay, am I missing something because I thought I made it clear I'm on a break," Louis mused.

 

"Well, your fans want a single," Liam said.

 

"They know I'm taking time out," Louis frowned, sitting up, tension filling his bones.

 

"You shouldn't have sung that song at the fan night," he accused softly. "They bloody loved it. Someone uploaded it and now there's demand..."

 

"There was no phones allowed!" Louis snapped, annoyed.

 

"Guess someone hid theirs pretty well," Liam offered.

 

"So what, you expect me to record 'Too Soon'?" Louis posed.

 

Liam hummed. "Yep, as soon as..."

 

"Then find me a studio here, I'll drop in while Harry's at work..." He suggested.

 

"No can do, need sleeve shots," Liam shared.

 

"Pick some of Harry's," he frowned testily.

 

"Can't," Liam shook his head as he spoke, as though Louis could see him.

 

"Why the fuck not?" Louis snapped, getting angry.

 

"Harry hasn't released copyright yet, he's still taking bids on them."

 

Louis rubbed his forehead with his fingers.

 

"You're telling me we have nothing to use-nothing?" He repeated, disbelievingly.

 

"Not recent," Liam posed. "And people want to see you now. Not a picture they've already seen six months ago..."

 

"Then hire someone here to do the pictures, too," Louis demanded.

 

"Lou, you can have your year, we've agreed that much. But you're still under contract. If the record label feel that there's any risk to your popularity fading while you're taking time out, they'll drop you."

 

Louis sucked in a breath. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Simon, one he hadn't told anyone else about yet.

 

"I want a new deal for my third album anyway," he cast, breathless with nerves.

 

Liam was silent.

 

"What?" He finally asked.

 

"You can stay," he added quickly. "But I want to find a new deal. one that's about the quality of my work, not the quantity. One that will let me see my boyfriend." he mused.

 

Louis waited for Liam to speak again.

 

"Okay, we'll look for a new deal," he allowed slowly. "But you still have to come home. I've booked a flight for tomorrow already."

 

Louis sighed.

 

"What's the consequence if I don't get that flight?"

 

"Your fans, Lou," Liam bribed him with the one thing Louis couldn't say no to. "You'll be letting them down if you don't give them what they want..."

 

"What about what I want?" Louis wondered.

 

"I've already booked your return flight, you'll leave Chicago at 4am, get into London at lunchtime and be back on a flight at 8pm so you'll land back there at 4am," he explained. "It's just one day out of your break."

 

Louis closed his eyes, fear and dread filling him. Harry would be crushed. But Louis knew he had to do it. He had to do a lot of things he didn't want to do because that's what came with his job. And maybe Harry wouldn't understand, he wouldn't be the first but Louis had hoped against all odds that Harry would be his last. His last kiss, his last lover, his last everything.

 

"Alright, get me at the airport," Louis agreed gruffly.

 

"We'll lay on the limo to sweeten it up," Liam promised with a click goodbye.

 

//

 

Louis went to meet Harry on the music video set. It was obvious to Harry right away that something was wring.

 

The way Louis was avoiding looking at him, his body tense. The way that although he held Harry's hand there was something brittle about it, like if he held too hard he'd break.

 

His eyes were intense in a stormy way Harry wasn't entirely used to.

 

They made it through a stony-silenced dinner, Harry being his usual relaxed self and humming to himself while Louis struggled with his inner thoughts. When they got back Harry was surprised to find Louis instigating something, something hot and slow and achingly good.

 

They lay together afterwards in the big bed; slightly apart, wrists and ankles overlapping. Harry dragged the sheet over his groin and caringly covered Louis, too.

 

"So, you going to tell me what this is about?" Harry twinkled, tipping his head over to look at Louis' profile.

 

"I have to go back," Louis said, not softening his words any.

 

Harry bit his lips, not sure he understood.

 

"Back...?"

 

"Home," Louis clarified. "To the UK. I leave at 2am and I'm coming back Tuesday around the same time..."

 

Harry turned, frowning.

 

"What? Why?" He asked, eyes going over Louis' features worriedly.

 

Was one of his family sick? Niall maybe?

 

"I have to work," Louis stated, lips pressing together in annoyance.

 

Harry felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He jerked back a little with the sobering effect of those words.

 

"I thought you were taking time off," he ventured gently.

 

"I did too," Louis lifted his brows ruefully. "Apparently what the fans want, they get, no matter what I think about it."

 

Harry drew in a breath, sitting up.

 

"This was for us," he said of their break.

 

Louis nodded, sitting up too, cupping his knees, pressing his chin to them.

 

"It still is. You're working, right? It's just a few hours out..."

 

Harry's face revealed his confusion, his hurt. Louis had expected it.

 

"Is this...Is that what it's like for you?" He asked, a little harder. "Always having to leave mid-holiday to work?"

 

Louis nodded sadly.

 

"Sometimes it is, yes," he admitted.

 

"Did you even fight for us?" Harry accused next, astounded at Louis' sudden return to devil-may-care.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

"Yes."

 

Harry frowned, shifting to the edge of the bed. He felt the telltale stickiness of Louis' semen inside him as his as muscles clenched in protest of movement of any kind. He stood up, turning with his hands on his hips.

 

"How hard?" Harry asked then.

 

Louis looked up. He had circles under his eyes that hadn't been there a few moments ago. This was taking its toll but Harry couldn't hide his hurt, couldn't stem his anger. He should be supporting Louis right now, not hurting him back.

 

"I tried, okay?" Louis offered quietly. "I wasn't going to win this fight. I've told Liam I want another deal, that the new album is not going to be with this label but unfortunately I'm still under contract so..."

 

"So you're their bitch?" Harry arched a brow.

 

Louis blinked, a little surprised at Harry's anger.

 

"I'm sorry...I really am, I had no choice. I tried. I asked what would happen if I didn't go and-"

 

"And you just gave in," Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair.

 

"No, of course I didn't," Louis frowned, clenching his teeth together trying to refrain from snapping although he really felt like it. Harry was being so unfair.

 

Harry lifted up his hand, the hand his ring sat on.

 

"What does this mean if we can't even have our time together without your work commitments forcing you to leave?" Harry accused.

 

"It means everything," Louis' eyes flashed with something Harry didn't like. "It's supposed to mean we'll be together no matter what," he added pointedly.

 

Harry smiled but it wasn't a happy one.

 

"I'm not the one going home," he arched, looking for his jeans and dragging them on, haphazardly tugging his boots on, too.

 

"What're you doing?" Louis asked, frowning.

 

"Leaving," Harry offered although it was obvious.

 

"Haz, please," Louis rolled onto his thigh, reaching across the bed. "Just stay and shout it out. Hold me until I have to go..."

 

Harry paused, the muscles in his shoulders twitching at Louis' plea.

 

_Hold me._

 

He felt tears stinging the backs of his eyes and didn't want Louis to see them. He had no right being mad that Louis was leaving, this was his job, he had a contract, he had to work sometimes and he didn't want to...why did none of those words offer him the comfort they should? He wanted Louis to pick _him_ over singing, wanted this experiment to work.

 

How could it work if Louis went back on his promises? He had promised to follow Harry around, to commit to travelling. It may only be 24 hours out of their trip but it was the action of leaving that upset Harry the most. He was completely in love with Louis and the thought of him leaving left him feeling desolated. He was utterly done for he realised, a slave to his feelings and it was a scary place to be.

 

As if the way Louis had just made love to him wasn't enough to try and get his head around, now this. Maybe love just wasn't enough he mused.

 

He'd grabbed his coat and was sliding it on when Louis tumbled out of bed, sheet grasped around him with one hand.

 

"Harry, don't go," Louis called as Harry opened the hotel door.

 

If Harry turned around Louis would see the tears already coursing down his cheeks. If he spoke, his broken voice would give him away. As much as he wanted to turn and cry his hurt out on Louis' shoulder; hold him the way he'd begged- he couldn't.

 

He strode through the door and startled as it clicked loudly shut behind him.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He'd just walked out.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Harry jammed his hands in the coat pockets and shouldered through the hotel's revolving doors into the street, instantly surrounded by camera flashes and crowds of paps.

 

He ducked his head, his hair flying wildly around until he dragged a hand through it, walking resolutely away from the bustle.

 

"Harry, where's your shirt?"

 

"Harry, have you had a fight?"

 

The shouts echoing behind him made him shiver. They had pictures of him crying, topless under his jacket. They knew, they _knew_ he'd left in a hurry upset and half-dressed.

 

He slipped out his phone and called the hotel; making a request to security that the paps be cordoned off so that when Louis left he wouldn't face the same barrage of intimidating questions.

 

He wiped his cheeks with his wrist, sniffling as he dialled a number.

 

"Hey, changed your mind?" Cobey greeted.

 

Harry swallowed- hard, hoping to keep the pain out of his voice. His wadded throat betrayed him.

 

"Can I stay at yours tonight?" He asked his long-time friend.

 

Cobey paused, obviously hearing something in Harry's voice.

 

"Sure, you remember where I am?" Cobey checked.

 

"Yeah, I'll bring the vodka," Harry offered.

 

Cobey chuckled. "Don't bother honey, I have plenty..."

 

Harry ended the call and hastened through the streets before dark fell completely.

 

//

 

Louis was on the plane home within a few hours of Harry's exit. He hadn't tried to get to sleep, not bothering to pack a bag taking only the essentials with him- wallet and phone.

 

He didn't plan to make London his home and he'd be back before he knew it.

 

He wondered if Harry would be speaking to him by then.

 

He played with the buttons of his phone, thinking of a text message that might pass for acceptable.

 

He'd already left three voicemails- one after Harry had stormed out, asking him where he was going. Another an hour later when Louis had circled the hotel room several times in the vain hope Harry might actually come back, too scared to venture out with the large crowd of paps waiting there. And another one this morning as he'd sat in the taxi on his way to the airport.

 

That had been his worst. He cringed in memory.

 

_'Harry, it's Lou...I'm heading to the airport now and I really want to hear your voice before I go...please, babe, just call me and shout at me I don't care, I just need to hear your voice...please, Harry-'_

His voice had cracked, he'd ended the message before Harry could hear his tears.

 

Louis never cried. Well, not very often. The odd really sad cartoon where an animal died or when something really bad happened...He'd not cried over a guy before.

 

He'd had to wipe away his tears and push himself from the taxi into the airport, every inch of his body aching to turn back, to sort things out with Harry before he left.

 

It was like his veins were filled with metal shavings and Harry was the magnet. Walking was like fighting his every muscle to make it to the check-in desk.

 

"Good morning sir!" The check-in girl trilled.

 

"Is it?" Louis asked.

 

"Oh, not a morning person," she smiled sympathetically.

 

 _No actually my boyfriend walked out on me because I chose work over him, how's that for a good morning?_ He grimaced at the girl.

 

"Is the flight on time?" He checked and she nodded brightly, passing him his boarding pass.

 

"There you go, have a lovely flight."

 

Louis blinked and forced his legs to keep moving even if it was in the wrong direction.

 

//

 

Harry woke up with a banging headache.

 

Luckily the music video shoot was done and he didn't need to be back at the theatre until lunchtime which was just as well considering the state of him.

 

He looked down on himself, seeing he was plus jeans and minus a top. Cobey was asleep face down on his double bed next to him and he reminded him of Louis like that. That's how Louis slept. _LouisLouisLouis_.

 

"Why am I topless?" Harry husked, rubbing his eye tiredly.

 

He reached for the pint glass of water by his bedside and drained half of it.

 

Cobey stirred, ever the gent in his clothes still from last night.

 

"You came without a top," he told him and Harry realised he'd heard his out-loud question to himself.

 

Cobey lifted his hands in mock-surrender.

 

"I promise, I didn't touch you..."

 

Harry smirked.

 

"I didn't think you had..."

 

"You say his name in your sleep, you know," Cobey shared.

 

Harry made a face.

 

"What? I do not..."

 

"You do," Cobey nodded. "Louis...Lou..." he imitated.

 

Harry thumped him.

 

"Shut up."

 

"Oh Louis," he exaggerated, tickling Harry. "Louis, fuck me! Louis, I want you!"

 

Harry pushed him off, smiling but not allowing it to increase to a laugh.

 

"Get off me, weirdo," Harry accused tiredly, drunkenly.

 

"You do want him to fuck you though," Cobey stated and Harry wondered if his ex was questioning his commitment.

 

"He left," Harry stated on a sore throat- probably from all the vodka and crying.

 

Cobey pulled his attacking hands away from Harry's sides and lay down on the bed next to him where they both faced, Harry pale and exhausted.

 

"It's his job, Harry," Cobey pressed gently. "Can you really be mad about that?"

 

Harry made a pained face, deep in thought.

 

"And more than a job, really because it's what he loves, it's what drives him," Cobey said. "He has people all over the world who love him, he can't just pretend they don't matter..."

 

Harry sucked in his lower lip, nodding. The tears had started again. He was an idiot.

 

"And he told you he tried to get out of it-that he's making changes, getting a new deal..."

 

Harry peeked at his friend.

 

Cobey cleared his throat.

 

"Why did you leave, Haz?" He asked.

 

Harry dipped his gaze with a blink, chewing his lip.

 

"Because I'm scared," he admitted shakily.

 

"Of what, honey?" Cobey rubbed his arm tenderly.

 

"Of how I feel," Harry arched a brow. "Like I can't control it, can't think about anything else..."

 

Cobey smiled, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.

 

"It's called being in love," he shared knowledgeably.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"How badly have I fucked up?" He wondered hoarsely.

 

Cobey cupped his cheek, smiling.

 

"Not that badly he won't forgive you," he assured.

 

"I just wanted him here," Harry expressed. "It felt like he was being snatched away- but wanting to be," he voiced his worries.

 

"He has to juggle you and the people that adore him," Cobey counselled.

 

"I never thought of it like that," Harry admitted.

 

"And you can pick and choose your work, he just has to go when he's told, I know what those music managers are like..."

 

Harry nodded.

 

"I should call him," he said.

 

Cobey chuckled.

 

"I'll make us some breakfast, go ahead and make nice with Louis before I get sick of hearing his name..." he suggested as he got up off the bed and headed out of the room.

 

//

 

Louis was in the recording studio when his phone went off. Liam was keeping it to stop Louis getting distracted- for his own good he had told him.

 

Liam knew just what Louis was like and if he wanted to back on that plane in six hours, he had to focus.

 

"Harry," Liam ducked out of the room to answer the call.

 

"You're not Louis," Harry accused huskily.

 

"No," Liam smiled. "I'm Liam."

 

"Oh, hey mate," Harry greeted with a sigh. "Louis not about?"

 

"I made him give me his phone to make sure he made the plane back," Liam admitted.

 

Harry smiled. "Yeah...uh...will you tell him I called?"

 

Liam nodded. "Sure, will do..."

 

"Liam-?" Harry's breath caught as he called his name before he hung up.

 

"Yeah, man?" Liam checked back.

 

"Is he okay?" Harry asked.

 

Liam swallowed. Louis wasn't okay in any of the ways that someone could be okay but he didn't know how much he should let on to Harry since they didn't know each other all that well yet.

 

"He's pushing through," Liam offered.

 

Harry sighed and squeezed his eyes closed.

 

"Tell him...Tell him it'll be okay, yeah?" Harry whispered.

 

"I think I'll leave that to you," Liam chuckled before he clicked the call end button, leaving Harry no more time to plead.

 

//

 

Liam waited until Louis got the track recorded and was on the way to the studio for the single sleeve shots before he shared the news. He handed Louis back his phone who quickly checked it and sagged a little as he saw no messages or missed calls recorded. He started in on Twitter.

 

"Harry called," Liam offered, watching as Louis snapped his head up.

 

His blue eyes were faded with worry and his face was gaunt with stress. He had darkened bruises under his eyes and his lips were pinched tight. Liam didn't recognise the guy he'd gotten to know so well these last few years.

 

"What did he say?" Louis asked.

 

"To tell you he called..." Liam summarised.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

"Oh."

 

"He asked about you, asked me if you were alright," Liam said.

 

"What did you say?" Louis wondered.

 

"Not much." His manager admitted.

 

Louis nodded, distracted by the pictures loading on his phone of Harry leaving the hotel. He was topless under his jacket, looked unbelievably sexy with his long legs in jeans hugging his delectable thighs, his muscular torso visible where his coat fell open. Louis could see the beautiful line of muscle that slashed diagonally across his belly and hip, the faint six-pack he owned, the swell of his pecs. His hair was dragged back through his fingers and Louis wished it was his fingers in that beautiful mess.

 

He was almost annoyed that Harry had gone out looking so fuckable but something in the picture stopped him cold. _Harry's tears_.

 

"Why don't you call him?" Liam suggested, looking through the window screen of their taxi, seeing nothing but traffic. "Gonna be ten minutes yet..."

 

Louis bit at his lip.

 

"Come on mate, we don't want the scare the fans, sort it out and get a smile on your face," his manager teased.

 

Louis squinted at him.

 

"Remind me why I employ you," he teased.

 

"Because you love me," Liam winked.

 

Louis did love Liam in some small way, just on a friendly level because he knew his manager did a lot for him that he didn't tell Louis about. The fact he also kept a lot from him was negotiable.

 

Louis dialled Harry's number, getting his voicemail.

 

"It's me," he husked, tiredly with a sigh. "Liam said you called...I-uh...call me back if you can?" he asked, clicking the end call button with a frown.

 

"Why do you look like someone ran over your puppy?" Liam accused lightly.

 

Louis scowled. He'd told Liam about his fight with Harry but not gone into details about what caused it.

 

"I left him this really stupid voicemail before I left," Louis slid his eyes across the view outside his window, his lids halfway down from tiredness.

 

Liam smirked.

 

"Think we've all been there, mate," he bolstered.

 

Louis pressed his lips together.

 

"I've hurt him and I don't know how to fix it," Louis admitted.

 

"Don't think you have to by the sound of it," his manager assured.

 

Louis blinked.

 

"I hope so," he mused.

 

"What did you say in the voicemail?" Liam asked, just out of interest.

 

Louis smiled for the first time, a hollow ghost of a smile.

 

"That I needed to hear his voice before I left, even if it was to yell at me," Louis shared.

 

Liam's brows lifted and his lips parted.

 

"Mate, why didn't you say? I'd have never taken your phone," he awed.

 

"Because we both know I had to get my head in the zone," Louis accepted. "That's why you're such a great manager."

 

Liam swallowed. "We'll do some moody pics and make sure no-one can tell," he promised.

 

Louis nodded, pressing the corners of his lips inwards.

 

"Deal," he sighed.

 

//

 

Perrie was his surprise stylist for the quick shoot.

 

He'd gasped and hugged her so hard she'd giggled and told him to 'get off' so she could do his make-up. He didn't even argue with her and his previous thoughts about his next album sleeve not featuring make-up were shot down in flames.

 

Fuck it, he needed as much drag as he could get to look human let alone pretty.

 

"So, what's up, pet?" She asked soothingly as she worked. She wasn't one to be rushed and Louis had a flight in two hours.

 

He looked around to see who was taking the photos, wishing it could have been Harry.

 

"Had a fight with Haz," Louis admitted sadly.

 

"For some reason I think it's Harry whose in the wrong this time?" She guessed.

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"No, he's done nothing wrong," he said only.

 

Perrie lifted his chin and kissed his lips. Louis still wasn't quite used to her doing that.

 

"Stop pouting. You're beautiful but not that beautiful," she teased.

 

Louis rustled up a weak smile.

 

"Aye, there ya go! He's getting into it now," she winked at Liam.

 

Liam nodded and smiled back.

 

"Hey, what you doing after Louis goes?" Perrie asked the tall brown haired, brown eyed guy.

 

Liam shrugged.

 

"Come and have a drink with us, pet," she invited.

 

"Alright, I will," Liam agreed easily.

 

Louis didn't sense any chemistry between the two but he liked that his and Harry's friends were mixing. He drew some energy from somewhere, posing for a good hour or so until he had to be rushed away; quick, broken hugs with Liam and Perrie before he threw himself in a taxi.

 

//

 

 

Louis' flight was delayed.

 

Harry was already waiting at the airport, forearms on thighs as he checked the sign. There had been an earthquake this afternoon, just a tiny tremor compared to some he'd witnessed while in America but the aftershocks were delaying the flights landing. Harry was mildly comforted to know that at least Louis' plane was in the air, had started its journey even if it was circling helplessly right now.

 

If it changed route and landed at Burbank, he'd miss Louis' landing. He ran his fingers into his hair, checking his phone. Louis' last message before his flight still lay there, bright and hopeful.

 

**_I miss you._ **

****

Harry had broken down at that, overcome with pain and guilt. He'd made Louis feel terrible and it wasn't on. He had no right to punish Louis for working. He'd just delved into his own selfish feelings and Louis was suffering now because of him. Maybe he had wanted that in some small part of his mind but that wasn't the part that had to live it, had to hear how much his boyfriend needed him and had to bear the weight of him not being there.

 

Harry would make it up to him, over the next 100 years if he had to. He'd be there unfailingly for Louis, however Louis needed him.

 

He checked the board, wiping away his tears.

 

"Here," An older lady pushed a screwed-up tissue towards his elbow on his right.

 

"Thanks," he appreciated with watery eyes and a bunged-up nose. He blew it loudly, wetly.

 

"You worried about someone?" She nodded at the 'delayed' sign.

 

"No, I've been a bit of an idiot, I'm afraid," he admitted with a self depreciating smile.

 

"Well, you are a man," she teased warmly.

 

Harry smiled at her.

 

"I'm Harry..."

 

"Mabel," she offered, shaking his offered hand.

 

"Who're you waiting for?" He wondered, using the tissue to mop up his tears.

 

"My daughter," she softened. "She comes every year for my birthday and we go there for Christmas..."

 

"England?" Harry checked and Mabel nodded.

 

"That sounds really nice..."

 

She smiled. "It's life," she said diplomatically. "What about you?"

 

He bit his lip.

 

"My boyfriend," he admitted, not sure of her reaction to this news.

 

She smiled again, soft and reverent.

 

"That's nice," she patted his knee. "I take it you fell out?"

 

"No, I was an idiot," Harry owned the reason for his upset. "Can't blame anyone but myself..."

 

"It'll be okay," she assured.

 

Harry sat back, sighing.

 

"I hope so," he shared.

 

She smiled knowingly.

 

"You're the one I see in the paper," she said then.

 

Harry grinned shyly.

 

"Yeah..."

 

"With the handsome singer," she added.

 

Harry nodded. "Yeah..."

 

"In my day he'd have taken my fancy," she confided with a giggle.

 

Harry regarded her with bright eyes, completely pulled from his anxious crying from moments before.

 

"I bet," he teased.

 

She patted his knee again.

 

"I've seen how he looks at you," she said, sounding a little like Yoda in her wisdom.

 

"Oh?" Harry humoured her.

 

"I think he likes you a little bit," she winked.

 

Harry spat out a chuckle.

 

"You think he still does?" he asked even though Mabel wasn't in any position to make that kind of call.

 

"Oh yes," she nodded. "You're not horrible to look at either," she added.

 

Harry smirked.

 

"It's not all about looks," he mused wistfully. He so wished it was, he might get a free pass for being such an idiot.

 

"No, you're very right," she agreed.

 

"Is your daughter a fan?" Harry wondered.

 

Mabel shook her head, smiling. "It's me I'm afraid."

 

Harry grinned again. "That's awesome, Louis would be amazed to hear that..."

 

Mabel rolled her eyes.

 

"Don't want you thinking I only sat here to meet your boyfriend," she sniffed. "I saw a young man crying and wanted to make him smile."

 

"You did," Harry assured.

 

Mabel tilted her head to the board. The 'delayed' sign had flicked to 'landing' and Harry's breath caught in his throat. Louis was nearly here. Finally.

 

When Mabel stood up, Harry did too and grabbed her hand.

 

"Meet him," he urged.

 

Mabel shook her head.

 

"No, you get on, young man, I'll survive on the papers," she assured.

 

Harry didn't let her hand go.

 

"Please," he begged. "It would mean a lot to me..."

 

Mabel pressed her lips together, her eyes shining.

 

"Really, he'd meet me? A little old woman..."

 

"Louis loves all his fans," Harry assured. "Especially ones who take care of his boyfriend..."

 

Mabel tilted her head.

 

"Alright, but I'm not getting in the middle of your hello kiss," she teased.

 

Harry bit his lip. "Will you wait, until after?"

 

She nodded.

 

"I'll get my daughter first," she decided.

 

Harry headed down to the arrivals lounge, breath in throat as he waited for Louis to turn the corner.

 

When he did, Harry felt his legs tremble, threatening to give way as he pulled air into his lungs, drinking in the sight of his smaller boyfriend, never so happy to see anyone.

 

It was a hard impact; their bodies pressing together, each trying so hard to envelope the other and hold so hard they'd never let go again. It was hard to breathe, it was messy with tears and it was long overdue.

 

"Thank god you're okay!" Louis gasped.

 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry mused.

 

"There was a bloody earthquake," he pointed out.

 

Harry pulled away a little, bemused. "It was only a little one..."

 

That didn't seem to matter to his beau.

 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Louis chanted, kissing over Harry's face and onto his lips.

 

Harry held him tight, cradled in his strong arms as that kiss developed. He was conscious of his new friend and an introduction to Louis so he pulled away.

 

"I'm so sorry," he managed tightly.

 

Louis hugged him around the middle as Harry circled his shoulders.

 

"We'll talk at the hotel," Louis murmured.

 

"There's someone I want you to meet," Harry said then.

 

Louis pulled back with a frown.

 

"Oh?"

 

Harry looked around, tugging Louis towards the small older lady with grey hair and kind eyes.

 

"Mabel?" He cupped her shoulder gently.

 

"Oh, Harry, there you are," she smiled. "Was just telling Stella all about you," she pointed to a younger woman with brown hair.

 

"Hi," Stella shook his hand, flicking a look to Louis.

 

"This is Louis, my boyfriend," Harry said.

 

Stella shook his hand and Mabel stood with her hands against her chest in joyed surprise.

 

Louis flicked a look at Harry.

 

"She's a huge fan," Harry said softly.

 

Louis nodded, sucking in a breath. He looked at Mabel.

 

"Don't I get a hug then?" He said.

 

And it was the right thing to say because everybody laughed and Mabel opened her arms as Louis hugged her.

 

"You smell lovely," she pinkened slightly as Louis pulled back.

 

"I try," he winked.

 

"And your young man, I must say, I'm awfully impressed," she shared.

 

Louis caught up Harry's hand in his proudly.

 

"He can certainly teach me a thing or two," Louis admitted.

 

"You've made me a very happy woman," Mabel beamed.

 

"Do you want a photo, mum?" Stella asked.

 

Mabel o'd her mouth. "Can you?"

 

"Yes, with my phone," she smiled.

 

Mabel moved in toward Louis and Louis hugged her warmly as Stella took photos and Harry took a few of the three of them together.

 

"It was lovely meeting you," Mabel hugged Louis goodbye.

 

"You too, thanks for looking after Harry," he added knowingly.

 

Mabel moved to Harry and took his hand between both of hers.

 

"You're a lovely young man and I want to take you home with me but I can't," she said.

 

Harry chuckled, kissing her cheek and giving her a big hug goodbye.

 

"Will we see you again?" He wondered.

 

She winked.

 

"I hope so."

 

The two women headed off and Harry looked at Louis for the first time in a long time, the tension of their reunion fading away. It didn't matter-none of it mattered because Louis was here, right _here_ in front of him.

 

When he looked at Louis he noted his dark eyes, the fatigue on his gaunt face, the way he wasn't shining anymore. Harry didn't know how he put the glow into Louis but somehow he did because Louis didn't have it anymore and Harry didn't know how to get it back.

 

Louis bit his lip as they turned toward the exit, both nervous, both unsure as to how this conversation was going to fold out, as to what actually needed to be said. It felt like since Sunday it had all melted away and all that mattered was _this_. Holding hands and being together.

 

Louis leaned into Harry's arm as they slid into the back seat of a taxi together. When Harry slipped his arm around his shoulders, he closed his eyes and turned his cheek in toward Harry's body.

 

"Let's go home, babe," he murmured.

 

Harry kissed his hair.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! I counted wrong there's 15 chapters not 16, oopsie!!
> 
> I have another little winter one shot I'm going to post today and after this long one I am posting Fawn!Harry :)
> 
> Ang

Harry made sweet, sweet love to Louis.

 

Louis rode in his lap, close and tight, his belly stretched beautifully for Harry's owning touch.

 

Harry owned him, in the most exquisite way. Words weren't needed, just kissing, just hands on skin, body inside body, movements in sync.

 

It was as epic as every other time they'd come together and neither of them felt any less freaked out by that but Harry held Louis tight in his arms, trapping his lovely little body against his own, his lips against Louis' brow gently brushing the skin there.

 

He wasn't sure where to start really, how to explain his idiocy. He sort of had to venture into territory that still made his stomach flip with uncertainty and made his skin pimple in discomfort.

 

Louis reached for the covers, mistaking Harry's shudder for a shiver.

 

"I fucked up," Harry husked.

 

Louis smiled.

 

"It's okay."

 

Really, he was back in Harry's arms so the rest didn't mean much to him.

 

"No, I should have been more supportive," Harry admitted. "It was selfish of me to get mad when it was obvious you didn't want to go..."

 

Louis sighed. "I knew it would upset you," he said.

 

Harry squeezed him, kissing his forehead.

 

"I-well, there's a reason, I guess," he ventured. "A reason I was so weird about it all..."

 

Louis leaned onto his elbow, leaning over Harry a little to look into his face. Harry shifted up and leaned back on the headboard, Louis tucking into his side.

 

"What's the reason?" Louis prompted gently.

 

Harry flicked his eyes across, letting Louis' steady blue gaze calm the raging in his stomach. He felt like throwing up.

 

"I'm afraid," Harry admitted, pressing into his fingers to avoid looking at Louis.

 

Louis curled closer, stroking a hand down the back of Harry's head, into his curls, onto his neck.

 

"Why?" He wondered worriedly.

 

Harry gave a rueful smirk, his lips pursing and his brow arching as he blew amused air out of his nose.

 

"I'm not sure I can even say it," Harry husked.

 

Louis' other hand came to rest on his thigh gently.

 

"You can," he promised. "You don't need to be afraid..."

 

Harry knew that, knew that anything he had to say to Louis would be accepted. He guessed he still held a little of the fear that had surrounded him at the start, when Louis was jumpy and quick to change his mind. Even with his ring on he still expected the stunning guy in his bed to up and leave at any moment but he didn't know why he felt like that. Louis had never really left, not really. He'd been frankly, painfully honest but he'd never given up on him.

 

Harry took a breath for courage.

 

"It's how you make me feel," he said then, biting his lip as if to punish his mouth for forming words. "I can't-I can't think about anything else...you're in my head and you won't go away," he shared shyly, quiet and earnest. "And that day...that was the best, really, it was...probably the best sex I've ever had," Harry peeked at him.

 

Louis' eyes were so intense Harry was almost drawn to him, the way he always felt drawn to him. He deliberately held back but Louis leaned toward him far enough to have to jolt himself back. Harry wondered if he wasn't a sole victim of this thing called love. Louis was waiting for him to continue.

 

"I felt so-" he swallowed. "So vulnerable, after...like this could ruin me, if we ever break up, I know it'd rip me apart..."

 

"Me too," Louis inserted quickly, emphatically, his fingers tightening on Harry's neck, making Harry shiver. "Sorry," Louis added as Harry looked at him, not done yet.

 

"When you said you were leaving, it-" he swallowed, closing his eyes, finding it easier to pretend he was talking to an empty room. "I thought you were finding a way out," he whispered.

 

"No," Louis pressed a hard kiss into his temple, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders and the knees he'd drawn to his chest. "God, no, furthest thing from, actually..."

 

Harry licked his lips, pulling back a little to look into Louis' face again.

 

"I've never felt like this," Harry twisted his lips. "Like the way I feel is so far out of my own control..."

 

Louis allowed a dry, amused laugh to leave his lips.

 

"Welcome to my world," he arched a brow.

 

Harry considered him, pressing his pouty lips together and then releasing them to speak.

 

"It was a bad combination," he offered finally, referring to the way he'd felt after making love and Louis' news.

 

Louis nodded, slipping his fingers into the rip in Harry's jeans at his knee, cupping his kneecap.

 

"Do you know how much I missed you?" He asked, avoiding his response for a minute while he thought up words that could rival Harry's beautiful confession.

 

Harry sneaked a lop-sided smile toward him.

 

"Yes, because I missed you too," he mused.

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"I was a wreck. Ask anyone...Liam, Perrie was there, she saw it," he sighed.

 

Harry turned his body a little and wrapped his arms around Louis.

 

"I'm sorry," he said again.

 

Louis rubbed his back, stroked fingers through his long hair.

 

" _I'm_ sorry," he said, face creasing as he pulled away. "I didn't want to hurt you."

 

Harry hid his eyes again.

 

"We've got to stop having this amazing sex," he teased.

 

Louis smiled at that.

 

"Well, we can try..."

 

Harry looked at him, blinking lazy lids over twinkling eyes.

 

"You think?"

 

Louis bit into his lip, brows furrowing.

 

"I feel the same, you know," he blurted then, keen to ease Harry's worries.

 

Harry gazed at him, with wide eyes. Louis studied the mixture of colours in his irises- green, grey, brown, tiny specks of blue.

 

"You do?" Harry checked.

 

Louis nodded.

 

"The way I feel scares the shit out of me every day," he mused.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

"That's why you found it hard, at the start," he suggested.

 

Louis studied him, wondering if Harry still felt insecure about Louis' indecisiveness over them when they were back in awkward city.

 

"Yeah...absolutely...You knew that, though, right? You don't doubt me anymore do you?" He checked.

 

Harry swallowed, pressing into his fingers again.

 

"The fact I feel like I can't be without you makes me wonder if I'll push you away somehow," he admitted softly. "Like I can get too clingy and suffocate you and that's not a guy I'm used to being," he added quickly as if in defence. "I've always been independent, strong...carefree," he added.

 

Louis cupped his knee, fingers stroking the back of his neck gently.

 

"You won't push me away," he said, hoping it was the right thing to say.

 

Harry smiled, his lashes damp with tears Louis didn't realise he'd shed. He quickly kissed into his curls, cupping his scalp to pull him close enough to do so. His fingers went back to Harry's neck after.

 

"Don't cry," Louis begged huskily, feeling his own emotions creeping up on him.

 

The absolutely awful hours he'd spent in London _without Harry_. The plane journey worrying _about Harry_. The walk into the Arrivals lounge wondering if he'd fucked it all up _with Harry_. He felt like lately his whole life revolved around his boyfriend and the most amusing thing of it was, he loved it. Absolutely loved it. Harry's words about always thinking of Louis went both ways. Louis had Harry on his mind from the second he woke to the moment his eyes closed and even then he had the odd dream about him too.

 

Harry hid his face as Louis shh'd him; cuddling him close with tender kisses. He wasn't sure why Harry was crying-maybe with relief? Because he felt it too, had felt it the second Harry had come into view when he had turned that corner at the airport and tried to push it down in case his boyfriend hadn't forgiven him yet and wanted to break up.

 

He definitely didn't expect Harry's tears though and it stabbed him in the chest as Harry sobbed into his t-shirt. He shuffled them down the bed; holding Harry tight in his arms as he soothed him and comforted him.

 

"I'm never leaving you, okay? Got my ugly mug around for a while, Curly....you sure you can handle that? My skinny body and short legs and amazing ability to be a dick without even trying..."

 

Harry heard his derisive murmuring but just curled closer, tighter into Louis' arms, so close to his body he could feel his heartbeat thrumming strongly against this chest, could feel the warmth from his blood relaxing him.

 

# _All it takes is just one hand_

_A hand in mine a smile upon your lips_

_I know that this happiness can't last forever_

_But as long as I can feel you_

_Feel your hand in mine_

_I know everything will be alright_

_All I need is just one love_

_A love so strong and so, so kind_

_I know that you can't be here forever_

_But as long as you are beside me_

_I can feel you near me_

_And everything will be alright_

_I didn't know it could be so good_

_I didn't know your love would be so pure_

_How could I know the stars danced all night_

_In your eyes, oh in your eyes_

_And you're the best thing I ever had_

_If I had known I'd have held you tight_

_I'd never have let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want tonight_

_Oh yeah, all I want tonight_

_All I need is you right here_

_Your body close and your voice in my ear_

_Your curly hair itching up my skin_

_I feel you move I don't want it to end_

_Will you be there, be by man?_

 

_I didn't know it could be so good_

_I didn't know your love would be so pure_

_How could I know the stars danced all night_

_In your eyes, oh in your eyes_

_And you're the best thing I ever had_

_If I had known I'd have held you tight_

_I'd never have let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want tonight_

_Oh yeah, all I want tonight_

_Ohh-ohh all I want tonight_

_Ohh-ohh by my side_

_Ohh-ohh be my man_

_ohh-ohh hold you tight_

_And you're the best thing I've ever had_

_All I want is to hold you tight_

_I will never let you leave my arms_

_Because you're all I want all my life_

_Oh yeah, all I want all my life...#_

 

Harry wriggled free as Louis finished his song, his green eyes wide with awe, with reverence _._

"Emelia heard it first," Louis admitted.

 

Harry smiled in surprise.

 

"You saw her again?"

 

Louis nodded.

 

"She said Hi," he shared.

 

Harry smiled in fond memory.

 

"She was so cute..."

 

"You were cute with her," Louis complimented.

 

Harry dimpled.

 

"Nah..."

 

"You got a trend," Louis accused happily. "Which reminds me..."

 

Harry lifted his brows, eyeing Louis' lips as he tried to focus on his boyfriend's words.

 

"Hm?" he enquired with a hum.

 

"Your pictures were online," Louis said.

 

"Which ones?" Harry wondered.

 

"Outside the hotel," Louis specified.

 

Harry swallowed, remembering that awkward confrontation with a frown. Louis kicked himself for making Harry's smile disappear.

 

"Yeah...they were pretty full-on," he nodded.

 

Louis kissed his forehead.

 

"You looked fucking amazing," he said. "Except for the tears," he added in case Harry was offended.

 

Harry smiled sheepishly.

 

"I'm good at those," he teased of himself.

 

Louis kissed his cheek, one then the other, hardly able to reach since Harry's face was smushed into the pillow.

 

"I don't want to make you cry anymore," Louis cuddled him.

 

Harry shook his head. "I'll grow a thicker skin," he promised.

 

"I love you how you are, Harry..." Louis assured, kissing his nose. "I just don't want to be the guy that makes you cry."

 

Harry snuggled back into Louis' chest with a sigh.

 

"Okay," he agreed tiredly.

 

"Can I stay the night?" Louis asked, a little belatedly. It was almost sunrise and they hadn't even slept yet.

 

Harry snuck a hand to Louis' chest, flexing his fingers against his skin in ownership.

 

"You're not going anywhere," he promised.

 

Louis brushed his lips into Harry's hair, surprised when he tilted his chin up, kissing Louis' jaw, then cupping Louis' cheek to guide his lips down for a kiss, a kind-of-awkward, kind-of-lazy, but oh-so-devastating kiss.

 

Louis smiled as they broke to settle into sleep. Tomorrow promised more but right now they needed to rest. The sunlight threatened to push through the curtains as their bodies gave into the fatigue.

 

//

 

It was midday when Louis woke with Harry in his arms, tight and protected. He really didn't want to leave this bed but he wanted to surprise Harry more than anything. It would put the sparkle back in his boyfriend's eyes and that motivated him to get up, get clean, dress and sneak out.

 

He hoped Harry didn't have to work today, hoped he'd cancelled any plans to go to the theatre to take pictures of the cast rehearsing.

 

He'd slipped on Harry's beanie for his jaunt, pushing through the paparazzi to make his way into the throng of Chicagoans and he found the first bakery and bought them a selection of fresh pastries, hoping Harry would appreciate the reminder of Paris. He knew Harry held that trip fond in his heart the same way Louis did. It was where they'd had their firsts.

 

First kiss, first 69 together, falling in love- definitely a first for Louis.

 

He dropped into the florists on the way back, selecting a bunch of sunflowers just like he had the morning they'd got back, the morning before they'd first made love. He smiled in memory of that, of how Harry had topped, how he'd beautifully fucked into him deep and slow as Louis was pressed deliciously into the mattress. Louis couldn't contain his ecstatic grin as he pulled out his wallet to pay, his eyes crinkling so deeply they nearly closed.

 

He frowned as his head went light; the ground moving. The low rumble of concrete shifting told Louis the imbalance wasn't in his head, but all around them.

 

"Quake?" He said to the florist, a pretty woman in her thirties.

 

She gripped the counter, seeing if it would ease.

 

"We had one yesterday," she shared.

 

Louis nodded. "I know, it delayed my flight..."

 

He staggered a little as the vibration deepened but then it eased off, leaving him to breathe out in relief. He wasn't used to seismic action, even the times he'd toured America he'd never witnessed an earthquake before. He quickly paid for his items and left; jogging down the street back to the hotel where he entered amidst probing questions from the press.

 

'Louis- are they for Harry?'

'Louis, did you have a fight?'

'Louis, what about the Hate Harry campaign on Twitter?'

 

Louis turned at the last call, one hand wrapped around flowers, one grasping a paper bag. He frowned, not wanting to delay going up and most definitely not wanting to pander to the press. He shook his head and turned inside, pulling out his phone as he juggled his purchases in one hand.

 

He snapped a selfie, holding up the items beside his face.

 

He opened Twitter and started a new message.

 

_Surprising him with flowers and pastries, hope he likes them :) #LoveHarry_

 

That should shut the press up and the fans who had taken against Harry. He smirked as he swiped the key card, sliding open the door carefully so as not to wake Harry.

 

Apparently Harry was awake.

 

"Thank fuck for that!" He sighed stressfully as Louis ventured in, brows lifted.

 

He didn't get to ask Harry what the fuss was all about because Harry had wrapped his arms right around him and rendered him unable to breathe.

 

"Where have you been, Lou?" Harry demanded huskily against his hair. "I was so fucking worried...you could have left a note or something," he squeezed tighter if that were possible.

 

Louis rubbed his back a little with the only hand he had free and even that was clutching a bakery sack.

 

"I went to get a surprise for you," he said, kissing Harry's cheek.

 

Harry pulled back, all wide eyes and pale skin. He was naked bar for some yellow shorts he'd tugged on and Louis was tempted to ruin him. If he didn't look so damn freaked out.

 

"There was an earthquake," Harry said then, emphatically.

 

Louis kind of went 'oh' and sucked in a breath.

 

"Only a small one..."

 

"That's what I said yesterday and you didn't agree," Harry pointed out.

 

Louis smiled in memory. Oh yes. But yesterday he'd still been in a fight with Harry and so, so scared of losing him. He cupped Harry's cheek and kissed his lips.

 

"I'm okay," he assured.

 

Harry pouted, kissing Louis for longer, until Louis' purchases slipped from his fingers to the floor and he wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, letting the taller man lift him a little to turn and walk them to the bed where he let Harry make love to him; a reassurance he was okay.

 

Louis was in his arms still as he spoke.

 

"I bought us breakfast," he ventured. "Just like Paris..."

 

Harry glanced over his shoulder, towards the abandoned items on their hotel room floor.

 

"And flowers," he noted.

 

Louis nodded, stroking back Harry's long, curly hair with tender fingers.

 

"Just like the first time," he hinted.

 

Harry smiled, wide with deep dimples.

 

"I like owning you way too much," Harry admitted.

 

Louis smiled back.

 

"Good job I like it too, then," he mused.

 

Harry got up, fetched the paper bag and propped his flowers in an empty vase on the side. He kissed Louis enough to say thank you.

 

They made a mess in bed with their crumbly treats.

 

Louis reached for his jeans to pull out his phone, snapping the patch of pastry remains, making sure Harry's bare knee was in that shot. They'd know it wasn't Louis' leg since he was skinnier and more tanned. He opened Twitter again.

 

_Breakfast in bed <3 #Love Harry_

****

Harry peered over his shoulder nosily. Louis showed him what he'd posted.

 

"Are you still upset over that?" Harry mused.

 

Louis pursed his lips.

 

"Yes."

 

"There's always going to be haters, Lou..."

 

"Well, I don't want them as my fans," he sniffed.

 

"A fan is a fan," Harry arched a brow. "They don't have to agree with everything you do."

 

Louis smirked. "I do you and they have to like it or lump it."

 

Harry smiled at him devilishly.

 

"Speaking of doing me..." he slid a hand up Louis' torso, leaning across to kiss him as his hands wandered.

 

Louis groaned and rolled over on top of his boyfriend, only to happy to ruin him the way Harry was clearly begging him to. They ended up covered in pastry flakes and Louis wouldn't have it any other way.

 

 

//

 

 

 _#HarryTomlinson_ was trending again.

 

Liam called Louis to tell him on their last day in the city and he happened to be hand in hand with his boyfriend while they waited for their flight to be called. Harry was busy perusing the perfume shop as Louis patiently accompanied him.

 

"You're kidding mate," Louis was saying and Harry flicked him the merest of looks, too wrapped up in fragrance to give his full attention.

 

"No, I'm not kidding," Liam assured.

 

Louis made a sound of disbelief.

 

"Guess I should be careful, don't want this getting out of hand," he mused.

 

Liam smiled. "I'm sure the fans will be respectful," he assured.

 

"More the press I'm worried about," Louis admitted. "They get hold of happiness and try and crush it."

 

"Well, don't stop tweeting, okay? Your single is out and your mushy crap on Twitter is selling your records...."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "How very uncynical of you Liam," he teased. "And there was me tweeting out of love not promotion for a single I didn't even want to release..."

 

Liam paused. "I'm really sorry about that," he said, softly.

 

Louis sighed. "It's done now, right? Any news on the get-out clause with Freya?" He asked of his current record deal.

 

"The deal was for three albums," Liam shared. "I'm trying to strike an exit deal that we pay a fee from the royalties of your single to release you from the contract..."

 

Louis sucked in a breath.

 

"I appreciate it," Louis assured.

 

He flicked his gaze to Harry, who although had selected a bottle and had sprayed a tester onto his wrist to sniff at gently, was now looking at him with a worried frown. Louis leaned up and kissed his lips quickly in silent assurance that everything was okay. Harry offered him his wrist and Louis smelled the scent. It was very Harry. He nodded his approval and Harry took a plastic-wrapped box off the shelf.

 

"I'm working on it," Liam assured Louis of his plans.

 

"Okay, gotta go mate, Harry's buying shares in duty free and he needs me to carry his shopping bags," Louis twinkled with a grin at his beau.

 

Harry pouted mock-moodily at him and Louis ended the call.

 

"All done?" Louis checked.

 

"What was that about?" Harry asked.

 

Louis licked his lips.

 

"Liam's trying to find a release clause for me to leave my record label before my three-album deal comes up," Louis relayed. "And apparently, you're trending again..."

 

Harry lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of Louis'.

 

"You can finish the deal," he said. "I promise I won't get mad if they make you do something..."

 

Louis smiled.

 

"It's not even about that anymore," he assured. "But thanks for the support."

 

"Why m'I trending again?" He wondered belatedly, heading for the till to pay for his purchase.

 

Louis handed over his card before Harry even got his wallet out. Harry tilted his head in mock-annoyance.

 

"I can pay for myself," he argued.

 

Louis kissed his mouth.

 

"I know."

 

Harry sighed out in acceptance.

 

"And you're trending because I tweet the most amount of mush about you..." he shared.

 

Harry slipped an arm around his waist, cuddling Louis into his side as his lips brushed his ear.

 

"Dare you to Tweet something dirty," he husked, making Louis' blood run warm.

 

He bit his lip, eyelashes caging his intense eyes. If there was a moment Louis would have begged for a fan not to interrupt this would have been it.

 

"Oh my god! Harry Styles!" An excited gasp sounded as they exited the shop and a teenage girl ran over, nearly hysterical.

 

"Hey," Harry smiled easily, detaching from Louis to cup her arms. "Easy now-breathe," he instructed.

 

The girl broke down into tears and he shot Louis a bemused look before gently wrapping the girl into his arms.

 

"Why're you crying?" He mused huskily.

 

"I can't-! It's you! And Louis-" she gestured to where Louis hung behind Harry slightly, finger threaded into Harry's belt-loop on his jeans. He slipped his hand down and tangled his fingers with Harry's which were now free.

 

"Hi," Louis smiled wanly, lifting his brows.

 

"Oh my god," she cast again, breathlessly.

 

Harry rubbed her upper arm with his free hand.

 

"Look, we'll take a photo, alright?" he offered. "Just please try and breathe..."

 

The girl nodded and Louis offered her his unopened bottle of water. She took it and sipped two or three times, wiping away her tears.

 

"You must think I'm so stupid," she said with watery eyes. "This is so embarrassing..."

 

"Come on," Harry took her hand. "Louis'll take a picture of us," he said. "Won't you Lou?"

 

"Ohmygod you called him Lou," the girl murmured to herself, hands shaking which Harry felt against his own.

 

"What's your name?" Harry asked, engaging her with his kind green eyes.

 

"Amy," she breathed.

 

"Well it's nice to meet you, Amy," he said smoothly. "Are you a fan of Louis'?" he wondered, even though she had recognised him first.

 

She smiled shyly. "And you, now," she admitted.

 

Harry nodded, happy in that knowledge. Louis' fans were so accepting of him and he was awed by it. Louis took a few photos of them together and Harry returned the favour, even roping in an airport attendant to take one of the three of them.

 

Harry bit his lip, sliding his phone out before Amy left.

 

"Will you take one of us?" He asked.

 

Amy looked like her birthday had come early. She lifted Harry's phone and snapped him and Louis cuddled close, matching smiles on their faces.

 

"You're amazing..." she offered before she disappeared, overcome with emotion apparently.

 

Louis found the pictures on Twitter an hour later when they landed in London, waiting for their luggage.

 

_Just met @Louis_Tomlinson and @Harry_Styles... #HarryTomlinson #LoveHarry_

He smiled at the tags, showing Harry. Harry merely smiled secretly while Louis perused his other Tweets. They were side by side, holding hands in front of the luggage carousel. Harry hoped their matching beanies and all-in-black ensembles would disguise them enough to get home without any further fan interruptions.

 

_Chicago_ _airport with @Louis_Tomlinson #LoveOfMyLife_

Louis smiled quizzically at the picture Harry had posted of them that Amy had taken. He looked to his beau.

 

"Haz?" he murmured.

 

Harry smiled, big and goofy.

 

"Hm?"

 

"Am I really the love of your life?" He asked, bemused.

 

Harry bit his lip, flicking a look down to his boyfriend.

 

"I can mushy tweet too," he beamed.

 

Louis' eyes crinkled fondly.

 

"You saw mine?" He guessed.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Might have..."

 

Louis chuckled, slipping his hand from Harry's to curl his arm around his waist, kissing his jaw.

 

"It isn't a competition."

 

"You wrote me a love song," Harry remembered of the beautiful song Louis had sung to him that he hadn't found words to acknowledge properly yet.

 

"I have a hundred more to write to make up for being an ass," Louis assured.

 

Harry slipped his hand into Louis' back jeans pocket.

 

"Speaking of ass..."

 

Louis leaned into his shoulder with a kiss to his jacket in lieu of skin.

 

"Later, babe," he murmured.

 

Harry kissed his hair, pulling out his phone with his free hand, snapping a shot of Louis against his shoulder, all brown hair. When Louis looked up with a suspicious squint, Harry took another picture of his softly-curved lips, his love-soft eyes and Harry's t-shirt loose on his chest.

 

_When your boyfriend wears your clothes... #LoveOfMyLife_

Louis tipped his head back into Harry's shoulder, waiting for their luggage to arrive.

 

//

 

"Finally!" Niall threw a hug on Louis as Louis opened his flat door to his best friend.

 

He grinned, eyes crinkling.

 

"Nialler," he greeted. "How's things?"

 

Niall pulled back with a knowing grin.

 

"You're all loved up all over Twitter and you're asking how I am?" He teased.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

"Maybe you should get on Twitter too then I wouldn't have to ask..."

 

"Is he here?" Niall looked over Louis' shoulder.

 

"Hi, Niall," Harry threw a wave over his head from the sofa where he was seated, engrossed in a book apparently.

 

"Hey, Haz," Niall called. "Good trip?"

 

Harry grinned over his shoulder. "You could say that..."

 

Louis offered his beau a fond smile, then turned back to Niall.

 

"You want to go out?" He asked his friend.

 

Niall lifted his brows. "You mean you two can survive separately?"

 

Louis punched him. "Shut up, Horan."

 

"No, I mean it, thought you were a single cell organism now..."

 

"Take him away, Lou," Harry called.

 

Louis smirked, ruffling Niall's hair, hugging him again.

 

"I missed you," he admitted to his best mate.

 

Niall hugged him tight.

 

"Me too, gay-boy, me too..."

 

"Any news on club-girl?" Louis asked of Niall's date way back when.

 

Niall shook his head. "Not a child-friendly person," he shared and Louis knew that was kind of vital for Niall since he ran a music school.

 

"Ah, never mind," Louis comforted him. "Maybe next time."

 

"So, we having a beer?" Niall checked. "The game's on and me dad's offering free lunch..."

 

Louis grinned in agreement.

 

"Haz, you coming?" He called over to his boyfriend.

 

Harry shook his head.

 

"Nah, I'm good. I'm just gonna curl up on the sofa with my book..."

 

Niall frowned a little.

 

"You sure, mate?" he checked. "I really don't mind..."

 

"No you go," he waved them off. "I'm good."

 

Louis shrugged and slipped his jacket and shoes on, kissing Harry on the cheek before he and Niall left the flat.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your love :)
> 
> Ang

"It's weird, seeing someone else living with you," Niall said as he and Louis walked toward the pub.

 

Louis flicked him a look. "We're not like...officially moved in together or anything," he broached.

 

Niall laughed.

 

"You might as well be!"

 

Louis gave him a rueful smile.

 

"It's too soon," he said and the words took him back to a time when everything was happening too soon. Especially falling in love.

 

Niall shrugged.

 

"I dunno, you've spent a lot of time together..."

 

Louis nodded, ducking into Niall's dad's pub after him, slipping on Harry's beanie along with the too-big grey marl tracksuit bottoms he was also donning that belonged to his beau and the slightly-baggy black t-shirt.

 

"I guess so," he allowed of Niall's observation.

 

"Probably as many dates as people who've been together a year," Niall posed.

 

Louis gave him a patient smile.

 

"Can we watch the footie?" He asked, keen to turn the conversation away from himself.

 

Niall gave him a knowing grin.

 

"Alright, Tommo, get the beers in then," he winked as Louis got up to do just that.

 

//

 

_@Louis_Tomlinson spotted at the Lambs Heart...all in Harry's clothing! #HarryTomlinson_

Louis was just letting himself back into his apartment as he trawled his Twitter account.

 

_Missing my Boo :( #HarryTomlinson_

 

He looked up from Harry's tweet, not seeing him on the couch. He walked forward to find him curled there, asleep with his book fallen from his fingers onto the sofa cushion. Louis rescued his beloved paperback and perched, brushing Harry's curls away from his face.

 

"I like coming home to you," he murmured thoughtfully.

 

He quickly grabbed a pen and paper and sat in the armchair. He was still scribbling when Harry stirred. He stretched, yawning as his body lengthened and curled back in as he watched Louis with a soft smile.

 

"Hey," he greeted sleepily.

 

Louis bit his lip. "Hi," he said, still writing.

 

Harry knew not to disturb him, just watched him with a loving look and fondness curling up his limbs. He sucked his lip, too happy and trying to keep his smile hidden away.

 

Louis looked up, pen pausing.

 

"Hi," Harry greeted again.

 

"I love you," Louis said.

 

Harry dimpled.

 

"Love you too."

 

Louis stood, laying his notebook into his empty seat.

 

"Can I join you?" He asked.

 

Harry wriggled and made room, holding out his arms for Louis to snuggle into them. He kissed Louis' beanie-covered hair.

 

"Wearing my stuff again," Harry husked warmly.

 

"Twitter knows," Louis shared.

 

Harry smiled. "I can live with that."

 

"You really missed me?" Louis asked, shifting back to look into Harry's face.

 

Harry made a shy face.

 

"Maybe."

 

Louis smiled, Eskimo-kissing him.

 

"Missed you too..."

 

"I can't fit your clothes," Harry sulked mildly. "I don't get to wear you when we're apart."

 

Louis kissed his pouty lips.

 

"You have my ring..."

 

Harry frowned a little.

 

"Good point."

 

Louis smiled at him, big and unhindered.

 

"It's nice coming home to you on my sofa."

 

Harry blinked. "Guess I should have been on the bed on all fours..."

 

Louis groaned and kissed him again, hotter this time, harder. Harry eased them back into a tender lip-lock.

 

"Don't tease me, babe," Louis husked.

 

Harry tilted his head against Louis', holding him close. He would love to be on the bed on all fours but he just wanted to hold Louis for a while. Just a little while.

 

"You horny?" Harry asked.

 

Louis nuzzled into his throat, kissing his jaw.

 

"Love this, actually," he sighed. "S'really nice."

 

Louis sounded sleepy and Harry smiled. Their lazy days were the ones he loved best. Now they were back, they would be needing to work, had friends and family to spend time with.

 

"Hey, I haven't met your mum and dad," Harry said then.

 

Louis smirked.

 

"My mum is going to scare you off so that can wait a while longer," Louis posed.

 

"What?" Harry whined. "Why?"

 

"She'll talk about wanting grandkids and how handsome you are and how beautiful little curly-haired boys would be," he warned.

 

Harry chuckled.

 

"What about blue-eyed boys-or girls," Harry added.

 

"Don't think she cares much about my DNA, babe," Louis mused. "It's all about you..."

 

Harry pouted.

 

"I'd want a kid that looks like you," he assured.

 

Louis swallowed. He wasn't sure if Harry was admitting he wanted to have kids full stop or just placating him.

 

"Not sure we're ready for my mum's eternal hope I'll get married and reproduce one day," Louis teased.

 

Harry rubbed his lips together.

 

"Guess not," he offered with a sad smile Louis didn't see from his position tucked under Harry's jaw.

 

Louis didn't miss his tone though.

 

"You still want to go don't you?" Louis realised.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Be nice to meet the lady that made you," he offered.

 

Louis fell in love with him all over again.

 

"I love you so fucking much, Curly," he sighed, leaning up to kiss him.

 

Harry let Louis own him with that kiss, with his body. They lay entwined on the sofa afterwards.

 

"Maybe we don't need to work anymore," Harry posed, drawing lazy patterns on Louis' bare back with his fingertips.

 

Louis smiled against his chest.

 

"Retire early?" Louis mused.

 

"Yeah," Harry husked, his idea gaining weight. "We can pool our fortunes and live off the interest..."

 

"Not sure my body can take this every day for the rest of my life," Louis considered of their healthy sex-life.

 

"No?" Harry's lips were accosted by Louis' hair but he didn't mind.

 

"Too bloody sexy, you are," Louis accused.

 

Harry's smile could probably be seen from space.

 

"So are you," he poked right back. "Not giving any guy a fair chance, are you?"

 

Louis shifted, easing up Harry's body until they lay front to front, skin to skin.

 

"I think it's you who's not giving anyone a fair chance," Louis suggested.

 

"What did I ever do?" Harry arched a brow.

 

Louis kissed him to prove a point.

 

"Kissed like that for a start," he said breathlessly.

 

Harry's hands stroked down his back, over his backside which sat proud as Louis lay atop his beau.

 

"What about your ass then?" Harry wondered.

 

"Can't help that, my parents made it," Louis defended.

 

"And I can help how I kiss?" Harry mock-argued.

 

"Absolutely," Louis nodded with a glint of humour in his eyes.

 

Harry pouted.

 

"Fine, 'm not kissing you then..."

 

Louis kissed at his jaw, scraping his teeth there.

 

"Don't try and creep now," Harry warned, unsuccessfully. Louis' lips were already back upon his, coaxing his open. He resisted for as long as he could- it may have been seconds before he gave in.

 

Louis' groan as he slipped his tongue into his mouth more than made up for his concession. It wasn't long before Louis was inside him again; gently, gently joining their bodies with intermittent long kisses.

 

Louis' blue eyes were blown, his lips parted as Harry curled his legs around his waist, keeping him close, clutching at his shoulders, his neck.

 

"Haz," Louis gasped out, deep within him as he called him.

 

Harry kissed him, deep and meaningful.

 

"Can I keep you?" Louis asked and it took Harry back to when he and Louis had first confessed their feelings had first said 'I like you too much'.

 

Harry arched, taking him deeper.

 

"Yes," he breathed, in pleasure, in agreement. "Yes, you can...I'm yours..."

 

Louis thrust a little, easing his stroke with a circle of his hips to bring Harry higher on his journey to the stars.

 

"Lou...fuck, yeah," Harry tipped back his head and Louis kissed his throat, taking care not to fuck too hard into Harry again.

 

"Forever?" Louis posed, more as a test to see what Harry made of that.

 

Harry's lips parted as he let out a silent cry of pleasure, his eyes screwing shut as Louis filled him, with the smallest rock of his hips that made this so, so intense and so much more. Harry looked into his eyes, saw Louis' long term promise there, felt it in the way he loved his body. Tears spilled over his eyes at the idea of it, at having this, having _Louis_ \- within him, in his arms and by his side.

He'd once said forever was a long time, had once told Louis to wait until they'd made five years together before they made that kind of commitment but the truth was Harry felt it in his veins, felt it beating through his heart every day. He'd felt it every day since he'd met Louis which was weird and a little scary but it was also true. It was real.

 

"Forever," Harry whispered, his body letting go as Louis' hand enveloped him and it wasn't even the stimulation of Louis' digits that made him come undone, it was the promise of forever.

 

It seemed to have the same effect on Louis because he released, slow and lasting into Harry's body. Harry didn't uncurl his legs from Louis' waist until his body had completely tired; resting sated upon his.

 

"Fuck, Harry," Louis kissed his chest with a whispered curse.

 

"You asked," Harry ran a hand through Louis' hair caringly, kissing the top of his head.

 

"Didn't expect you to agree," Louis mused.

 

"Why not?" Harry wondered, wincing as Louis eased out of him.

 

He was going to regret this tomorrow, he was sure.

 

Louis shrugged. "Forever is a long time," he quoted Harry back to himself.

 

Harry smiled. "I know..."

 

"Are you ready for that?" Louis checked.

 

Harry nodded, crushing him into his chest with his tight hold.

 

"You're not going anywhere," he said.

 

Louis grinned happily in Harry's arms.

 

"Pass me my phone, I need to tweet something mushy," Louis lifted an arm to signal reaching for his phone.

 

Harry dragged up his jeans and handed it over, but not before taking a picture of them on the sofa together, leaving enough bare skin in the shot to evidence their intimacy without being too graphic.

 

He attached it to Louis' Twitter account.

 

_Boo is trying to reach his phone, I stole it :P #HarryTomlinson_

Louis snatched it off him, typing in another message.

 

_Hoping #HarryTomlinson happens really, really soon... #TooLovedUp #LoveHarry #MushyShit_

Harry kissed Louis' nose upon Louis showing him his follow-up tweet. He was blushing and Louis found it endearing.

 

Louis wondered if it was too soon, if the thought of marriage scared Harry. Harry was fingering his hair and gazing at him lovingly as he looked up. He didn't look anywhere near scared.

 

"There's something I want to ask you," Louis broached.

 

Harry's flicked his wide-green eyes to Louis' blue-grey ones.

 

"Oui?" Harry invited, reverting to his second favourite language.

 

Louis swallowed, tracing Harry's ribs with his fingertips.

 

"How would you feel about maybe sharing a place?" He wondered. "Maybe not right away just as a thought for the future, especially when you're working again and I'm back on tour..."

 

Harry let Louis flounder for a moment before speaking.

 

"Qui sonne comme une excellente idée," he offered. Louis looked at him, frowning. "Sorry, babe, what was that?" he asked, his breath hitching nervously in his lungs. "I'd love to," Harry replied. "I said it sounds like an excellent idea..." Louis's eyes widened in surprise at Harry's easy agreement to the one thing he'd been afraid to ask for fear of it being _too soon_. He grinned, kissing Harry sweetly. "I can't tell you how much I enjoy coming home to you," he admitted. Harry smiled, goofy and smitten. "Like having you coming home to me," he returned huskily. "We'll look for a place, yeah?" Louis suggested. Harry shook his head. Louis frowned. "I'll move in with you?" Louis asked, not liking to assume. Harry shook his head again. "I'm moving here," Harry told him then. "It's always felt like home, anyway..." Louis remembered the first time Harry had come over, had said about it being a perfect night because of his place. Louis Eskimo-kissed him, stealing a kiss from his lips. "I like you way too much," Louis sighed. Harry smiled back, cross eyes from their proximity. "Like you a bit, too," Harry twinkled, kissing him for longer than was strictly necessary but Louis didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. //  EPILOGUE It was their fifth year of returning to Paris on their anniversary. Harry took Louis to the crepe shop at 2am- even though he'd had to find another one last year because their usual venue had closed down and Harry had been utterly inconsolable about it, wailing that it was a sign, a bad sign and Louis had had to comfort him with tender kisses to his temple, quickly sourcing a new crepe shop using Google on his phone. He'd also sent a Tweet out to their loyal followers telling them he'd taken Harry to Paris and found him a new crepe shop especially. That had caused a trend. Louis had taken Harry for a picnic in the park, being sure to include melon on that little jaunt and they'd spent a lot of time holding hands and just walking. Walking by the river, walking around the quaint streets, walking and talking and kissing and cuddling until their PDA grew too much for the Parisian public. What they got up to in their apartment was another story. They'd each become more confident in their wants and wishes and weren't afraid to make demands, always checking, of course, that the other was happy to comply. Louis owned Harry the first night, overwhelmed by Harry's love for the French capital and then he let Harry own him back as their four-day weekend progressed. The fact they even left the apartment to walk anywhere was some kind of miracle. It had been Louis' idea to buy something permanent in Paris for them to drop by whenever they fancied. They had only come for their anniversary in the summer so far, choosing to rent it out for the rest of the year. But it was there and it was handy since their anniversary also co-incided with Fashion Week every year. Louis had taken Harry to some of the shows, made sure his friends had time with him, made sure he was properly showed off while Louis grinned smugly by his side. He was lucky and he knew just how much so. Harry was still asleep as Louis cast his gaze down his naked torso, his groin covered with the sheet in that way that made him look edible. His long legs were stretched out, toes off the end of the bed. Louis still wanted to keep him forever. He pulled out his phone, snapping Harry unawares.  _Sleeping beauty #ParisAnniversay #LoveHarry #HarryTomlinson_  If Louis' fans thought Harry was going to break his heart their longevity proved them wrong. He was sure they were more than fed up of the constant stream of mush he posted- and had been posting for the last five years. Still, he didn't care. They may be a little older- and Harry wore those minimal years well, looking nearly the same save for his hair being longer and his face more handsome-but their love never waned. And he liked to share it with the world really, celebrate his unbelievable luck because Louis still felt like he hadn't really earned Harry, didn't deserve his big, open heart and endless supply of kisses. He hoped he made up for it somehow, but he still didn't get quite how. He'd travelled with Harry that first year like they'd planned and Louis had struck a new record deal with a  more relaxed label, releasing his third album in the January so his tour could start after their anniversary. He'd been around the world again over the next three years, taking time out in between to tag along with his boyfriend while he shot the rich and famous. Watching Harry work was still one of Louis' favourite things and seeing his ring on Harry's finger was his second favourite. They'd gotten a couple of matching tattoos since meeting, but no more jewellery had been exchanged past the paper-aeroplane necklace Harry had gotten Louis to signal their air miles, the distance that Harry had once said was so fragile he never really felt far apart from Louis. Louis hadn't even teased him about that, had just kissed Harry until he whined needily and then they'd had the best sex ever. Better than their best sex before that. It was like a new record was being set in their relationship regarding how great their sex could be and Louis should find it disconcerting but he didn't, he really didn't. He just tried to get more of it and Harry seemed only too happy to oblige. So it was under the early morning Parisian sun that Harry blinked open sleepy eyes. Louis smiled. "You took a picture, didn't you?" Harry asked, voice rough with the damage from swallowing Louis whole last night. Louis twitched, wondering if he could ask for a repeat performance. "Yes," his smile slipped into a grin. Harry rolled his eyes, throwing a forearm across his eyes. "Can you at least wait until I'm awake?" He whined. "You looked too good to not take a picture," Louis aimed for flattery. Harry peeked at him from under his arm. "Yeah?" Louis nodded. "Not withering as the years go by?" Harry teased fondly.  Harry was only thirty, Louis two years his senior. Louis doubted Harry would ever wither, just grow more and more sexy as time went on. "You look amazing," Louis assured. Harry smiled and rolled toward him, kissing him. "So do you," he husked. "Far too good to be decorating my bed..." "Our bed," Louis amended and that made Harry groan and roll on top of him in an owning manoeuvre. Louis let Harry press between his thighs, cupping his face. "Let's go out for breakfast," Louis suggested. Harry tilted his head and pushed out his lower lip. "Don't you want me?" He sulked. Louis spent the next hour proving how much he did want Harry. And then they left the apartment hand in hand, dressed messily into jeans and tees with beanies hiding their messed hair. "Don't see why I have to share you," Harry commented. Louis flicked him a look. "You don't...I just want to show you off," he stated. Harry melted a little at that, a warmth spreading across the tops of his cheeks that Louis would never fed of witnessing. "I suppose," he slipped his free hand in his jeans pocket, fingering the metal band there. He hadn't given Louis a ring yet, hadn't presented him with a irrevocable sign of his commitment. He'd been waiting for this really, breakfast at a little patisserie, a walk by the river. He was pretty nervous and as he kept walking to find the perfect spot, Louis began to notice. "Where are we going?" Louis wondered as Harry strode confidently along, lips to the breeze as the blue cloudy sky reflected in his green orbs. "Somewhere," Harry said, because he honestly didn't know.  He didn't know where to take Louis despite knowing this city like the back of his hand. They'd visited all their old haunts- the shops, the parks, the streets. He felt like there was nowhere left to go despite the huge expanse of ground to choose from. They ended up back down by the river, where Harry remembered their argument about Louis confirming they were an item before telling Harry about that particular development. They'd walked by here yesterday, it didn't feel new but it felt right. He wasn't going to do this at the Eiffel Tower, it was too busy and too cliché. Harry wanted to mark their history and this might just be the perfect spot. 

He sat on a bench, pulling Louis under his arm as the cooling summer breeze pushed along the water; bringing the clouds flashing across the skyline and sending the sun in and out in choppy spates.

 

"I've always loved it here," Louis said.

 

"Hmm," Harry nuzzled his ear.

 

"We ate seafood at that little place down here," he remembered.

 

"We had a fight here," Harry added, nosing into his neck.

 

Louis twisted a little in his arm, tilting his face up to share a kiss, a reminder that they'd survived that- and the fights they'd had since- and were more committed than ever.

 

Louis was working on his fourth album now and Harry had found a spate of work in London. They were settling, quite happily and naturally, into co-dependency.

 

Harry had moved in with Louis soon after his invitation and if that move was meant to feel weird or awkward, Harry didn't get the memo. He'd felt like he was coming home, felt like he belonged with Louis, really and he still had to fight the smirk off his face every day as that feeling enveloped him and filled him with warm pleasure.

 

"I love you," Harry said, three words, kind of slow and spaced as his chin tipped up slightly in reverence.

 

Louis' eyes crinkled in that way Harry loved and he cupped his cheek.

 

"Love you too, you soppy bastard..."

 

Harry chuckled, slipping out his phone, taking a shot of the river.

 

_Perfection... #LoveLouis #Anniversary #GayParee_

He looked back to Louis, his digits diving back into his pocket as if to check the ring was still there. He should really have left it in the box, it was sending him crazy with worry over losing it before he gave it away. Louis seemed to notice the way he was squeezing his crossed thighs together nervously.

 

"Do you need to wee?" Louis wondered.

 

Harry swallowed, shaking his head. He tugged his sheep-skin lined denim jacket closer around him and bit his lip. Well, he supposed he ought to do this properly seeing as he had called Mark and gotten his permission to ask and all...

 

He stood, turning to face Louis with his hands in his pockets, then he sucked in a courageous breath and put a hand to Louis' knee as he knelt down, one knee hitting the ground which in hindsight he didn't plan all that well because it was the knee that his jeans bore a rip in. He quickly switched, grasping Louis' hand for pure stability right now. He felt light headed and his hands were shaking.

 

"Haz?" Louis leaned forward, a confused smile playing at his lips.

 

"I always said five years," he started, a little randomly but what the hell.

 

He couldn't just blurt out the question, he had to work up to it. And even if Louis' parents did welcome him like one of their own, he still felt the innate need to do this right.

 

"Five years?" Louis echoed, not really getting the significance of Harry being on one knee- or maybe he did and he just couldn't breathe if he thought about it so he chose not to.

 

"Before I'd consider forever," he mused. "Changed my mind of course but..."

 

_But what?_

 

Louis was getting antsy, wanted to run his fingers into Harry's hair and kiss his soft, soft mouth which was always so pliant and obliging. Sometimes when Louis kissed him awake Harry would barely move his lips, lazily striking his tongue against Louis' and moaning huskily in his throat as Louis persuaded him to let go of his clinging dreams and fall into his wide open arms. Sometimes Harry fell hard and fast and sometimes he had to be coaxed but Louis loved waking him up with kisses more than anything else.

 

"Get up, you fool," Louis breathed, eyes shining as they flicked over Harry's beautiful features.

 

Harry swallowed. He wasn't doing so well with this, really had no idea what he was doing other than trying to secure Louis for the rest of his life, maybe into his next one too if that was a part of the deal. He took another deep breath.

 

"I want forever with you, Louis," Harry stated, his face a mar of worry and nervousness that Louis leaned to kiss away, reaching the crinkle lines on his forehead.

 

"Me, too," Louis smiled, brushing his thumb down Harry's handsome cheek as he cupped his face fondly.

 

"No, I mean, like properly," Harry shook his head a little, shifting on his knee. The ground was really hard. He hadn't thought this through. If he'd wanted to make a speech he probably should have done that before he'd knelt down, now ever-increasingly aware of the granulated tarmac pressing into his skin.

 

Louis' beautiful face, earth-shatteringly sexy mouth and completely unfair intense blue-grey eyes were his comfort right now. He dragged his lip under his teeth.

 

"I want to marry you," he said then, looking up as if to gauge Louis' thoughts on that idea.

 

Louis' brows rose, almost reaching his fringe that poked out from his hat. He looked almost coy.

 

"What like this, in my trackies and-"

 

"Will you marry me, Louis?" He finally blurted out.

 

Louis' lips fell open and Harry seemed to take that as prompt to start talking again.

 

"I mean, is it something you'd consider, one day maybe, like...whenever really, I just wondered if- well, because if you don't want to then that's okay too I guess...or maybe _not_ depending if you just don't want to marry me _now_ or _ever_ -"

 

Louis had surged off the bench into his arms. Harry had to quickly put his other knee to the ground to steady him, his arms wrapping around Louis' eager body.

 

"Stop bloody talking-fuck!" Louis breathed. "Just shut the fuck up, okay?"

 

Harry frowned. _Okay_. He saddened a little at the chastisement and Louis pulled back, began kissing his pouty lips.

 

"No," he whispered between presses of his lips. "No, no, not like that," he assured. "I could listen to you forever, Haz, but..."

 

"But?" Harry arched.

 

Louis captured his face in his hands, their knees taking turns for space.

 

"But will you bloody let me say yes first?" He asked, stunned at Harry's question.

 

It was Harry's turn to look stunned.

 

"You will?" He asked, voice papery thin.

 

Louis grinned so hard his eyes almost closed and he nodded, planting a hard, affirming kiss on Harry's lips. Harry curled him tight in his arms and kissed him back.

 

He pulled away, shyly dipping into his pocket, flicking a look at Louis as his fingers pinched the band that lay there.

 

"I should have shown you this," he mused, tugging it out, presenting the ring to Louis finally.

 

Louis' eyes glossed over with moisture as he gazed at the band Harry had chosen. It matched the promise ring Louis had bought. It had the same double muted silver bands that Harry's ring possessed, but they sat in the centre of a wider, shiny strip that made Louis' ring just that little more flamboyant. Harry could have given him a can-pull and he'd have been happy but honestly, this was just perfect. So, so perfect.

 

"Put it on me?" Louis asked, voice soft and edged with emotion.

 

Harry looked into his face with such burning hope in his eyes, Louis wondered why he would even doubt him. Why would Harry think he'd say no?

 

Harry carefully slipped the band onto Louis' finger, hands a little shaky which Louis kissed each of his fingertips to try and ease. He cupped his neck and kissed his mouth for good measure.

 

"Fiancé," Louis announced, happily.

 

Harry nodded, biting his lip.

 

Louis helped Harry up then, stretching their aching legs and hugging him hard where Harry bent into his arms willingly.

 

"You're mine forever, Curly-boy," he mused.

 

Harry smiled into his neck.

 

"Are you mine?" He asked, because-well, he always did.

 

Louis pulled back.

 

"Will you marry me, Harry?" Louis asked the same question back to Harry that Harry had just posed to him.

 

Harry nodded, all dimples.

 

"I'm so, so yours," Louis assured with another tight hug.

 

He got out his phone, took a selfie of them, heads pressed together with matching huge grins; Louis sucking the tip of his ring finger to make sure his new jewellery was showcased.

 

_@Harry_Styles must be an idiot if he wants to marry me...Engaged! #LoveOfMyLife #LoveHarry_

 

Harry smirked, typing into his own phone as Louis updated his fans with the latest news, something Harry had come to love about his boyfriend... _fiancé_.

 

_Boo said yes :D #HarryTomlinson_

They grinned at each other, clasping hands as they faced.

 

"I guess we should celebrate," Louis suggested lightly.

 

Harry tilted his head.

 

"In bed?"

 

Louis blinked. _Yeah_. That could work for him...

 

"Alright, bad boy," he winked. "Do your worst..."

 

Harry planned to and for a long time yet. He pulled Louis into his side and kissed onto the top of his head as they turned back toward their apartment, their steps in sync and hurried.

 

It was a long, lovely afternoon that they both revelled in, wrapped up, soft, reverent and _together_. Together in a way that neither of them could stop grinning about. Together forever.

 

//

 

**_Tomlinson ties the knot_ **

_Six years after meeting, singer Louis Tomlinson, 31 has finally tied the knot with long term love, Harry Styles, 29._

_The pair were heavily expected to marry in Paris- the city in which it is believed they fell in love if their yearly jaunts there are anything to go by, but perhaps foreseeing the possible fan intrusion into their private day they snuck away to a mystery location to seal the deal._

_Both Tomlinson and Styles have their own Twitter accounts and they used their favoured method of communicating to share photos from the day, tweeting only one picture each with suitably loved-up lines._

_@Louis_Tomlinson is now my HUSBAND! It's official :D Boo forever #LoveOfMyLife_

_@Harry_Tomlinson is finally mine... #HarryTomlinson for real :) #OfficallyMarried_

_Harry looked handsome and dapper in a well-cut black suit with waistcoat and bow-tie while Louis chose a more fitted black suit and a tie, both with a red rose tucked into their breast pockets. Rumour has it that an official photo-shoot will take place once the pair return from honeymoon so that their mutual fans can share in their newly married status so be sure to keep checking back for news on Britain's favourite couple!_


End file.
